


Pride and Prejudice Erotica

by currerbell



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 45
Words: 109,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7385473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/currerbell/pseuds/currerbell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pride and Prejudice with a steamy twist. The the whole of England is in a sexual revolution and the characters of Jane Austen's most beloved book are experiencing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. In fact, what single men actually seek is an exceedingly good lay.   
However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.

“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?”

Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.

“But it is,” returned she; “for Mrs. Long has just been there checking out the new tenant and his package, and she told me all about it. He fills out his breeches like he’s been poured into them, according to her careful estimations.” 

Mr. Bennet made no answer. 

“Do you want to know who has taken it, and how well-endowed he might be?” cried his wife impatiently. 

“You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.” This was invitation enough.

“Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he either stuffs his codpiece with a sock or he is indeed hung like a proverbial horse; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so delighted with it, that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week.” 

“I have long wondered, dear wife, when the dickens is Michaelmas?”

“What? I wouldn’t have a sodding clue. Now, can we please return to the subject at hand?” 

“Right. What is his name?”

“Bingley.”

“Is he married or single?”

“Oh!   Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large schlong and even larger fortune; four or five hundred thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!” 

“How so? How can it affect them?  Has he propositioned one of them?”

“My dear Mr. Bennet,” replied his wife, “how can you be so thick!  It is my hope that he will engage in a private tryst with at least one of them, and that it will be so satisfying for him that he’ll have no choice but to propose immediately.   I have no doubt my girls are more than up to the task of pleasuring him in all manner of foreplay – it’s what I’ve been training and grooming them for all along, as you well know. And their skills are coming along nicely. Very nicely indeed. You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.” 

“Is that his design in settling here?”

“Design!   Nonsense, how can you talk so!   You of all people should know it is every man’s design to bed as many women as he is physically able to, and in every position imaginable.   But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of them, if they can pleasure him just so, and therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes.”

“I see no occasion for that. It’s not me he’ll want to have sex with. You and the girls may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley may like you the best of the party.” 

“My dear, you flatter me. I certainly have had my share of dalliances, but I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has five grown-up  
daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty.”

“At least in some circles, dear. I’m well aware you put your keys in the bowl down at the Horse and Hound last Thursday. Sir Johnson couldn’t stop talking about the hand job you delivered him.”

“But, my dear, that was the night your vigour tonic wouldn’t kick in. I needed entertainment. In any case, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into the neighbourhood.”

“It is more than I engage for, I assure you.” 

“But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them.  Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go and offer their daughters for a three-way, merely on that account, for in general, you know, they visit no new-comers.   
new-comers. Indeed, you must go, for it will be impossible for us to visit him if you do not.” 

“You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to his sampling in any way he desires whichever he chooses of the girls; though I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy.” 

“I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure she is not half so big-breasted as Jane, nor as skilled in the fellatio arts as our precocious Lydia. But you are always giving her the preference.”

“They have none of them much to recommend them,” replied he; “they are all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy has something more of a quiet feistiness than her sisters.” 

“Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves.” 

“You mistake me, my dear. I have high respect for your nerves, not to mention other parts of you. They are my old friends. One being somewhat the operative word, it must be said.   I have heard you mention them with consideration these last twenty years at least.” 

“Ah, you do not know what I suffer.” 

“But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of large cock and four hundred thousand a year come into the neighbourhood.”

“It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not visit them.”

“Depend on it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will visit them all.”

Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, caprice, and quiet yet virtually continuous promiscuity, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. Her mind was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to equip her daughters with enough sexual prowess so that men would be overcome by the combined sensuality and skill of the foreplay they delivered, thereby enticing the rich bachelors into matrimony; the girls would therefore able to liberally indulge their mother financially well into old age; its solace was visiting and news. Mr. Bennet did not overthink any of the above, as long as his diddle was fiddled thrice weekly. If perchance his wife neglected to do so – a state of affairs which was not only a given but also preferable to both of them – he was more than agreeable to relieving his needs down at the local bordello, where the nubile nymphs pocketed a small fortune in coinage.


	2. Chapter 2

Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Bingley. He had always intended to visit him, though to the last always assuring his untiringly nagging wife that he should not go; and till the evening after the visit was paid she had no knowledge of it. He derived no greater pleasure than sneaking around behind his wife’s back and testing the limits of her ignorance. In fact, he had frequented the town brothel on so many occasions he had lost count. Suffice to say he was well-practiced in the art of escaping the confines of his wife’s awareness.   

Thus, slipping out the side door and down the lane to call on a neighbouring bachelor was a cakewalk. It was then disclosed in the following manner. Observing his second daughter employed in the practice of sliding her tightened fist back and forth along the length of a garden cucumber to perfect her technique, he suddenly addressed her with: 

“I hope Mr. Bingley will benefit from your skilled fingers, Lizzy.”

“We are not in a way to know what Mr. Bingley likes,” said her mother resentfully, “since we are not to visit.”

“But you forget, mamma,” said Elizabeth, “that we shall meet him at the assemblies, and that Mrs. Long promised to introduce him.” 

“I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing.   She has two nieces of her own.   She is a selfish, hypocritical cow, and I have no opinion of her.”

“No more have I,” said Mr. Bennet; “and I am glad to find that you do not depend on her serving you.” 

Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply, but, unable to contain herself, began scolding one of her daughters. 

“Don’t keep playing with yourself so, Kitty, for Heaven’s sake!   Have a little compassion on my nerves.   You tear them to pieces.” 

“Kitty has no discretion in her urges,” said her father; “she times them ill.

“I do not pleasure myself for my own amusement,” replied Kitty throatily; “I’m merely readying myself for the sexual act, as you have trained me so thoroughly to do. In fact, I’m desperate for some action. When is your next ball to be, Lizzy? And more importantly, when is my next ball to be?” 

“Tomorrow fortnight.” 

“Aye, so it is,” cried her mother, “and Mrs. Long does not come back till the day before; so it will be impossible for her to introduce him, for she will not know him herself.”

“Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce Mr. Bingley to her.”

“Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him myself; how can you be so teasing?”

“I honour your circumspection. A fortnight’s acquaintance is certainly very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a fortnight. It can take much longer to evaluate the kinky preferences, the cross-dressing quirks, the penchant for bondage and discipline, whether they consider themselves an ass man or a boob man, that sort of thing, of a complete stranger.   But if we do not venture somebody else will; and after all, Mrs. Long and her introductions are made; and, therefore, as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I will take it on myself.” 

The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only, “Nonsense, nonsense!”

“What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?” cried he.

  “Do you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you there. What say you, Mary? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, have a high threshold for pleasure-pain and are astonishingly flexible.”   
Mary wished to say something sensible, but knew not how. 

“While Mary is adjusting her ideas and her leatherwear,” he continued, “let us return to Mr. Bingley.”

“I am sick of Mr. Bingley,” cried his wife.

“I am sorry to hear that; but why did you not tell me that before?   If I had known as much this morning, I certainly would not have called on him and offered my daughters as sensual treats for his unrelenting pleasure. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we cannot escape the acquaintance now.”  
The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished; that of Mrs. Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though, when the first tumult of joy was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the while.

“How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well to neglect the possibility of one or more of them getting fondled and possibly even knocked up by a loaded rogue. Oh, we should be so lucky. Well, how pleased I am! And it is such a good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning and never said a word about it until now.”

“Now, Kitty, you may rub yourself thusly as much as you choose,” said Mr. Bennet; and, as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the orgasmic raptures of his wife, and soon after, his middle daughter. 

"What an excellent father you have, girls!” said she, when the door was shut.   “I do not know how you will ever make amends for his kindness; or me, for that matter: prostituting you tarts in such a way and for the benefit of a lecherous and possibly quite twisted stranger; but it matters not as long as he can ease our finances for the long term.   At our time of life it is not so pleasant, I can tell you, to be making new acquaintances every day, to be sniffing out filthy-rich bachelors with the hope that their sperm count is as abundant as their bank balances; but for your sakes, we would do anything.   Lydia, my love, though you are the youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next ball; it’s that underage tweeny Lolitaesque quality about you that makes men drool into their Pimms – no matter than none of these references will be relevant for at least two hundred years, girls; you know I fancy myself a bit of a clairvoyant, and you get my gist.” 

“Oh!” said Lydia stoutly, “I am not afraid; for though I am the youngest, I’m the tallest.   And you said it yourself, mamma: I can deepthroat the garden cucumbers at our weekly lessons with more emphatic suction than any of my sisters.   Oh, and my gag reflex is less developed, which I can only hope will please the gentlemen to multiple happy endings."

Mrs. Bennet patted her youngest daughter’s knee fondly and beamed at her pink-cheeked innocence.   
The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he would return Mr. Bennet’s visit, and determining when they should ask him to dinner.


	3. Chapter 3

Not all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five daughters, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw from her husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley, either in stature, musculature, nor guestimations at his night-time prowess. They attacked him in various ways – with bare-assed questions, ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all, and they were at last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour, Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favourable. She had come away with a ravenous libido, and upon her return had begged her husband to pleasure her to no less than three orgasms.   Sir William had been delighted with him, since he himself was prone to the more-than-occasional premature ejaculation, so much so in fact that his wife referred to him affectionately as “Push ‘n Squirt”; the repetition had allowed him to hold his own, at least by the third round.   He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, pleasingly well-hung, extremely agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly with a large party.   Nothing could be more delightful!   To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling into bed and possibly in love, if the performance was pleasing enough; and very lively hopes of Mr. Bingley’s penis and heart were entertained.

             “If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield and receiving satisfactory servicing to boot,” said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well married, I shall have nothing to wish for.”

             In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet’s visit, and sat about ten minutes with him in the library. He had entertained hopes of being admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard much; he had even hoped to execute a covert visit to their chambers, where he’d fantasized about getting caught up in a playful feather pillow fight with a number of nubile scantily-clad virgins; but he saw only the father. The ladies were somewhat more fortunate, for they had the advantage of ascertaining from an upper window – where they were dressed only in pantaloons and also enjoying an impromptu pillow fight quite similar to the very one that Bingley had erstwhile imagined that he wore a blue coat, and rode a black horse, and that there was a definite swell to the area their eyes could not help but linger.

             An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched; and already had Mrs. Bennet planned the courses and the sexual favours that were to do credit to her housekeeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr. Bingley was obliged to be in town the following day, and, consequently, unable to accept the honour of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet was quite disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that he might be always flying about from one place to another, pleasuring other regions’ nubile virgins as well as their own, and never settled at Netherfield as he ought to be. Lady Lucas quieted her fears a little by starting the idea of his being gone to London only to get a large party for the ball, and could only hope that he was busy securing a brigade of equally well-endowed young studs to provide pleasing prospective entertainment for the combined party of their many daughters; and a report soon followed that Mr. Bingley was to bring twelve ladies and seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls grieved over such a number of ladies, but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing, that instead of twelve he had brought only six with him from London – his five sisters and a cousin. And when the party entered the assembly room it consisted of only five altogether – Mr. Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and another young man.

             Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, a perpetual semi hard-on, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with big hooters and an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely looked the gentleman until he was regrettably caught bonking his own wife’s sister only ten minutes into the gathering, behind the open door, no less, of the drawing room; but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, strapping musculature that threatened to bust the seams of his coat, fabulously jutting codpiece, noble mien, and the report which was in general circulation within minutes after his entrance, of his having ten million a year. The gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud; to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his large estate in Derbyshire complete with a well-equipped “playroom” for the sensual arts including all manner of accessories could then save him from having a most forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his friend.

             Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal people in the room; he was lively and unreserved, danced every dance, rubbed his straining bulge against every woman under the age of thirty in the room, was angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving one himself at Netherfield, which he promised would be much more lively and equipped not only with toys but a theme to ensure all in attendance would be obliged to all but undress themselves entirely amid the festivities. Such amiable qualities must speak for themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy danced only once with Mrs. Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, barely cracked a woody, declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party. His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come there again. Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of his general behaviour was sharpened into particular resentment by his having slighted one of her daughters, and scarcely provided an opportunity at all for them to offer themselves to him in any manner of enticement.

            Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr. Darcy had been standing near enough for her to hear a conversation between him and Mr. Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes, to press his friend to join it.

            “Come, Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance.   I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”

            “I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner.   At such an assembly as this it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”

            “I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Mr. Bingley, “for a kingdom!   Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty; and you must agree these sisters’ dresses some of the most revealing I have yet seen; I’ve also heard that they are not only dedicated but admirably trained to attend to the unbridled pleasure of men with large endowments, such as ourselves.”        “You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.

            “Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld!   But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, pleasingly voluptuous, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”

             “Which do you mean?” and turning round he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said: “She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; my body is a veritable masterpiece and my schlong a thing of wonder, both in size and functionality; this has been confirmed repeatedly and somewhat exhaustively; I can thereby afford to be extremely particular, and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”

            Mr. Bingley followed his advice.   Mr. Darcy walked off; and Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings toward him.   She told the story, however, with great spirit among friends – a veritable masterpiece, a thing of wonder, please! For she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.

            The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole family. Mrs. Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield party. Mr. Bingley had danced with her twice, and she had been distinguished by his sisters. Jane was as much gratified by this as her mother could be, though in a quieter way. Elizabeth felt Jane’s pleasure.  Mary had heard herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most accomplished girl in the neighbourhood; and Catherine and Lydia had been fortunate enough to be without partners, at least when everyone was watching, which was all that they had yet learnt to pretend to care for at a ball; in

actuality, Lydia had caught the eye of a sprightly young stable hand who happened to pass by the drawing room window early in the evening, and had snuck out the back entrance to give him a rousing round of oral pleasure behind a bush, which he had then eagerly – and quite skillfully, it had to be said – reciprocated.  Kitty, upon Lydia’s lengthy rehash of the happenstance encounter, snuck out to find said stable boy, and a friend, only too eager to repeat the hospitality. Then the girls returned, in good spirits, to Longbourn, the village where they lived, and of which they were the principal inhabitants. They found Mr. Bennet still up. With a hooker he was regardless of time; and on the present occasion he had a good deal of curiosity as to the events of an evening which had raised such splendid expectations.   Shooing his dalliance out the back door, he joined his wife and daughters in the drawing room. He had rather hoped that his wife’s views on the stranger would be disappointed; but he soon found out that he had a different story to hear.

            “Oh! my dear Mr. Bennet,” as soon as she entered the room, “we have had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there. Jane was so admired, nothing could be like it. Everybody said how well she looked; and Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with her twice! Only think of that, my dear; he actually fondled with her twice! and she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second time. First of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand up with her! But, however, he did not admire her at all; indeed, nobody can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with Jane as she was going down the dance.   So he inquired who she was, and got introduced, and asked her if he could take her upstairs for her pleasure, and his own.   Of course I agreed to it, as long as her so-called purity remained in tact. Imagine my elation! And the two of them were gone for some time, and returned an hour later with flushed cheeks and silly grins. Imagine my delight! Then the two third he danced with Miss King, only to be polite, and the two fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane again, and you should have seen how quickly she aroused him once again to full form, even after all that had taken place not a half hour before, and the two sixth with Lizzy, and the Boulanger—”

            “If he had had any compassion for me,” cried her husband impatiently, “he would not have danced half so much!   For God’s sake, say no more of his partners. O that he had sprained his cock in the first dance!”

             “Oh! my dear, I am quite delighted with him. He is so excessively handsome!   And his erection is so lively! And his sisters are charming women. Although I could not help but notice their dresses are excessively revealing, even more so than our girls’ outfits. You could practically see their nipples. I dare say the lace upon Mrs. Hurst’s gown—”

            Here she was interrupted again.   Mr. Bennet protested against any description of finery.   She was therefore obliged to seek another branch of the subject, and related with much bitterness of spirit and some exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr. Darcy.

            “But I can assure you,” she added, “that Lizzy does not lose much by not suiting his fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and he walked there, showing off his muscles, allowing the girls to smooth their hands across his washboard abs as though granting them a favour, fancying himself so very great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

             When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister just how very much she admired him.

             “He is just what a young man ought to be,” said she, “sensible, good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! – so much ease, with such good breeding!   And his tongue is wickedly skilled! Would you believe it, dear Lizzy? He invited me up to a hidden, private chambers and lay me onto a plush bed; finally, after all the practice with garden cucumbers, he offered himself to me and I was able to determined that my skills are indeed quite effective. I rubbed him with my palms and gripped him with my fingers until he ejaculated joyously! And as soon as he recovered, he proceeded to lift my skirts most stealthily, tickling me and rubbing himself against me in such an enticing way! Dearest Lizzy, you will never guess what he did next. He untied my dress completely, suckling on my breasts and touching me – everywhere – with his long, wandering fingers. I was soon overcome with the most pleasurable rush, as though overcome by a wave of molten, starry pleasure. And then, when he desired fervently to lick me to yet another rush, I could scarcely refuse him! My first orgasm! And followed so quickly by my second!   He really is most agreeable.”

            “He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth, “which a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can.   His character is thereby complete.”

            “I was very much flattered by his asking me to give me a second orgasm. I did not expect such a compliment.”

             “Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference between us. Compliments always take you by surprise, and me never. What could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times as succulent as every other woman in the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, obviously virile, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person.”         “Dear Lizzy!”

            “Oh! you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general. You never see a fault in anybody. Even those prone to limpness. All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in your life.”

            “I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone; I’m of the opinion that most men can get it up with the right kind of encouragement, but I always speak what I think.”

“I know what you do; and it is that which makes you wonder. With your good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of others! Affection of candour is common enough – one meets with it everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design – to take the good of everybody’s character and make it still better, and say nothing of the bad – belongs to you alone. And so you like this man’s sisters, too, do you? Their hoity-toity attitude bordered on bitchy, if you ask me. Their manners are not equal to his.”

            “Certainly not – at first.   But they are very pleasing women when you converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her brother, and keep his house and to organise his orgies – he mentioned he would like to host one, and sooner rather than later; and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming neighbour in her.”

            Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced; their behaviour at the assembly had not been calculated to please in general; and with more quickness of observation and less pliancy of temper than her sister, and with a judgement too unassailed by any attention to herself, she was very little disposed to approve them. They were in face very fine ladies; they were buxom without being overly plump and their asses, though large, were semi-toned, rounded, and jiggled slightly when they walked (a detail that excited Mr. Hurst to no end); they were not deficient in good humour when they were pleased, nor in the power of making themselves agreeable when they chose it, but proud and conceited. They were rather handsome, had been educated in one of the first private seminaries in town, had a fortune of two hundred thousand dollars, were in the habit of spending more than they ought, and of associating with people of rank, and were therefore in every respect entitled to think well of themselves, and meanly of others. They were of a respectable family in the north of England; a circumstance more deeply impressed on their memories than that their brother’s fortune and their own had been acquired by trade. Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly ten million dollars from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate, but did not live to do it.  

            Mr. Bingley intended it likewise, and sometimes made choice of his county; but as he was now provided with a good house and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to many of those who best knew the easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to purchase. In short, since he had inherited his fortune and had no need to bother himself with the tediousness of work, he was free to squander his time as he pleased, which more often than not involved pink-cheeked wannabe heiresses who were all too willing to play. Partying and partaking in pleasures of the flesh with déclassé bitches who were desperate to secure a husband like himself were far more enjoyable pursuits than the stodgy, tiresome chore of estate-hunting, or the mundane task of possibly securing his fortune for the next generation.

            His sisters were anxious for his having an estate of his own; but, though he was not only established as a tenant, Miss Bingley was by no means unwilling to preside at his table – nor was Mrs. Hurst, who had married a man of more fashion than fortune and was a sprinter rather than an endurance man, so to speak, and who was also painfully aware than the ‘sprinter’ in question was in fact shagging her own sister on the sly, was less disposed to consider his house as her home when it suited her. Mr. Bingley had not been of age two years, when he was tempted by an accidental recommendation to look after Netherfield House. He did look at it, and into it for half-an-hour – was pleased with the situation and the principal rooms, one of which, with some additional rugs, cushions, a bar and some ambient music, would be a perfect venue for the orgy he had in mind, was satisfied with what the owner said in its praise, and took it immediately.

            Between him and Darcy there was a very steady friendship, in spite of great opposition of character. Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Darcy’s regard, Bingley had the firmest reliance, and of his judgement the highest opinion. In understanding, Darcy was the superior. Darcy was also reputed to have not only the largest fortune in the tri-county area, but also the largest manhood. Bingley was by no means deficient, but Darcy was downright immense, and clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley was sure of being liked wherever he appeared, Darcy was continually giving offense.

             The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently characteristic. Bingley had never met with more pleasant people or prettier girls in his life; the Bennet girls, across the board, were plush-breasted, pink-cheeked beauties who, at the insistence of their mother, wore gowns that left little to the imagination; everybody had been most kind and attentive to him; there had been no formality, no stiffness (save his own); he had soon felt acquainted with all the room; and, as to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel more beautiful, nor more tasty; the power of his spurtacious upheaval under her gentle, fumbling caresses had astounded even himself with its ferocity. Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention or pleasure. His cock, regrettably, had barely stirred, yet this was not at all unusual; he was a man of select tastes. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty, but she smiled too much.

            Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so – but still they admired her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet girl, and one whom they would not object to know more of.   Miss Bennet was therefore established as a sweet girl, and their brother felt authorized by such commendation to think her as he chose, although his definition of ‘sweet’ was rather more complex than their own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom the Bennets were particularly intimate. Sir William Lucas had been formerly in trade in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune, and risen to the honour of knighthood by an address to the king during his mayoralty. The distinction had perhaps been felt too strongly. It had given him a disgust to his business, and to his residence in a small market town; and, in quitting them both, he had removed with his family to a house about a mile from Meryton, denominated from that period Lucas Lodge, where he could think with pleasure of his own importance, and, unshackled by business, occupy himself solely in masturbatory activities and, when not behind closed doors, in being civil to all the world. For, though elated by his rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the contrary, he was all attention to everybody. By nature, inoffensive, friendly, and obliging, his presentation at St. James’s had made him courteous.

            Lady Lucas was not a very good kind of woman, not too clever to be a valuable neighbour to Mrs. Bennet. They had several children. The eldest of them, a sensible, intelligent young woman, about twenty-seven, was Elizabeth’s intimate friend. In fact, the two had briefly experimented with lesbianism upon more than one occasion and found it interesting yet somehow lacking in substance.

            That the Miss Lucases and the Miss Bennets should meet to talk over a ball was absolutely necessary; and the morning after the assembly brought the former to Longbourn to hear and to communicate.

            “You began the evening well, Charlotte,” said Mrs. Bennet with civil self-command to Miss Lucas. “You were Mr. Bingley’s first choice.”

            “Yes; but he seemed to like his second better. He did not offer to sweep me off my feet to a private upstairs chambers and offer me rather climactic treats.”

            “Oh! you mean Jane, I suppose, because he ‘danced’ with her twice,” Mrs. Bennet said, punctuating her gesture by drawing air-quotes with her fingers, “– and that’s not the only thing he managed to do twice,” she winked. “To be sure that did seem as if he admired her – indeed I rather believe he did – I heard something about it – but I hardly know what – something about Mrs. Robinson.”

            “Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr. Robinson; did I not mention it to you?   Mr. Robinson’s asking him how he liked out Meryton assemblies, and whether he did not think there were a great many bonkable women in the room, and which he thought the prettiest? and his answering immediately to the last question: ‘Oh! the eldest Miss Bennet, beyond a doubt; there cannot be two opinions on that point.’”

             “Upon my word!   Well, that is very decided indeed – that does seem as if – but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know.”

            “My overhearings were more to the purpose than yours, Eliza,” said Charlotte.   “Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listening to as his friend, is he? – poor Eliza! – to be only just tolerable. And to barely get a twitch of an erection out of him. Most disappointing, dear Eliza. I’ve heard much of this so-called masterpiece, yet it was not quite inspired to spring to life on the night, now, was it? Pity.”

             “I beg you would not put it into Lizzy’s head to be vexed by his ill-treatment nor his lack of arousal, for he is such a disagreeable man, that it would be quite a misfortune to be liked or desired by him. If the estimations of his length are anything to go by, I’m surprised dear Lizzy didn’t jump up and run in the opposite direction. Mrs. Long told me last night that he sat close to her for half-an-hour without once opening his lips.”

             “Are you quiet sure, ma’am? – is not there a little mistake?” said Jane. “I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her.”

             “Aye – because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he could not help answering her; but she said he seemed quite angry at being spoken to.”

             “Miss Bingley told me,” said Jane, “that he never speaks much, unless among his intimate acquaintances. With them he is remarkably agreeable.”

             “I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long.   But I can guess how it was; everybody says that he is eat up with pride, possibly because of his legendary endowment, and I dare say he had heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had come to the ball in a hack chaise.”

            “I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long,” said Miss Lucas, “but I wish he had danced with Eliza.”

             “Another time, Lizzy,” said her mother, “I would not dance with him, if I were you.”

 “I believe, ma’am, I may safely promise you never to dance with him.”

 “His pride,” said Miss Lucas, “does not offend me so much as pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so very fine a young man, with family, fortune, a virile constitution, a body to die for, everything in his favour, should think highly of himself – especially if it is in fact true that he has the largest manhood in three counties. If I may so express it, he has a right to be proud.”

            “That is very true,” replied Elizabeth, “and I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.”

             “Pride,” observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections, “is a very common failing, I believe.   By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed; that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary.   I dare say there is nothing imaginary about Mr. Darcy’s gift to womankind; even half-cocked, his package appeared impressive indeed.   Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously.   A person may be proud without being vain.   Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.”

            “If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy and had a willie even a quarter that size,” cried a young Lucas, who came with his sisters, “I should not care how proud I was.  I would keep a pack of foxhounds, and most certainly a harem – they could feed and train the hounds when they weren’t attending to me – and I’d drink a bottle of wine a day.”

            “Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought, and your harem would likely get arrested for indiscretions with a boy not yet of age,” said Mrs. Bennet; “and if I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle directly, and keep your harem as dog trainers for myself, although, come to think it, I’d likely spend the majority of my time attempting to keep them hidden from my husband’s uncannily attentive sixth sense for all things young, available and female within a three-mile radius of his person. Scratch the harem, but I would drink that bottle of wine, and post haste.”

            The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she would, and the argument ended only with the visit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

           The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit was soon returned in due form. Miss Bennet’s pleasing manner grew on the goodwill of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and though the mother was found to be intolerable, and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, a wish of being better acquainted with them was expressed towards the two eldest. By Jane, this attention was received with the greatest pleasure, but Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in their treatment of everybody, hardly excepting even her sister, and could not like them; though their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value as arising in all probability from the influence of their brother’s admiration and hopes for a repeat performance of their last encounter. It was generally evident whenever they met, that he did admire her and to her it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a way to be very much in love; she quietly yearned not only to give but to receive another of those stellar orgasms he so generously bestowed, but she considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane united, with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and a uniform cheerfulness of manner which would guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend Miss Lucas.

             “It may perhaps be pleasant,” replied Charlotte, “to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all begin freely – a slight preference is natural enough, and when one thing leads to another and in the event that climaxes are indeed obtained, we might think ourselves more smitten than we might otherwise suspect – not that I would know; I have not yet been lucky enough to procure one, although I am ever hopeful my time will come in due course, and sooner rather than later: I’m most interested to find out what all the fuss is about; but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten a woman had better show more affection than she feels, and Jane has performed admirably, jerking him off like that so enthusiastically. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on and continue to pleasure him without reserve.”

             “But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow.  If I can perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton, indeed, not to discover it too. She could hardly offer him her virginity, upon their first meeting, yet she did service him in a most resounding way.”

            “Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane’s disposition as you do.”

            “But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to conceal it, he must find out.   She certainly kept none of her body concealed; she was entirely unclothed, aside from her thigh-high stockings, and offering herself to him in a most inviting, wanton fashion.   According to her description, he rubbed himself over every inch of her bared skin.”

            “Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But, though Bingley and Jane meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and, as they always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that every moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should therefore make the most of every half-hour in which she can command his attention, luring him into clandestine corners as enticingly as she can, fondling his codpiece teasingly, neglecting to wear pantaloons under her dresses: that kind of thing. When she is secure of him, there will be more leisure for falling in love as much as she chooses.”

            “Your plan is a good one,” replied Elizabeth, “where nothing is in question but the desire of being well married, and if I were determined to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But these are not Jane’s feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet, she cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard nor of its reasonableness. She has known him only a fortnight. She danced four dances with him at Meryton; she shared a highly intimate hour with him in which he got his rocks off at least once, and she was granted, through the artful marauding of his articulate tongue, two decidedly memorable implosions; she saw him one morning at his own house, and has since dined with him in company four times. This is not quite enough to make her understand his character.”

            “Not as you represent it. Had she merely dined with him, she might only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but you must remember that four evenings have also been spent together, and one of them behind closed doors, during which he spilled his seed all over her naked body – and four evenings may do a great deal.”

            “Yes; these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both like Vingt-un better than Commerce; that he is particularly skilled at the art of cunnilingus, and she is likewise highly responsive; with respect to any other leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has unfolded.”

             “Well,” said Charlotte, “I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if she were married to him tomorrow, I should think she had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance.   Sexual satisfaction is not all that easy to come by, so I’ve heard. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently afterwards to have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.”

             “You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself.”

            Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley’s attentions to her sister, Elizabeth was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of his friend.

Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty; he had looked at her without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticize. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she hardly had a good feature in her face, that he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and pleasing; her low-cut gown was, perhaps at the insistence of her mother, not only tantalisingly sheer but also one size too small, and the tightness revealed young, generous breasts and an teasing outline of her pert nipples, which had been the only detail to excite him on an otherwise boring evening; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly unaware; to her he was only the man who made himself agreeable nowhere, who was reputed to be ridiculously well-hung and skilled with his instrument to boot, and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance with.

            He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards conversing with her himself, attended to her conversation with others.   His doing so drew her notice.   It was at Sir William Lucas’s, where a large party were assembled.

            “What does Mr. Darcy mean,” said she to Charlotte, “by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?”

            “That is a question which Mr. Darcy can only answer.”

            “But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is

about.   He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him.”

            On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such a subject to him; which immediately provoked Elizabeth to do it; she turned to him and said:

            “Did you not think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?”

            “With great energy; but it is always a subject which makes a lady energetic.”

            “You are severe on us.”

            “You have no idea,” he murmured, but her attention was diverted.

            “It will be her turn soon to be teased,” said Miss Lucas.   “I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.”

             “You are a very strange creature by way of a friend! – always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers.” On Miss Lucas’s persevering, however, she added, “Very well, if it must be so, it must.” And gravely glancing at Mr. Darcy, “There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of course familiar with: ‘Keep your breath to cool your porridge’; and I shall keep mine to swell by song.”

            Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always impatient for display, so much so that she insisted on wearing leather outfits of her own creation that were tight-fitting and more outrageous with each passing day; her courage for wearing the outlandish was gaining momentum, and the gathering could not help but notice her leatherwear was tonight adorned with a belt from which a pair of handcuffs hung, and a well-made riding crop.

             Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited manner, which would have injured a higher

degree of excellence than she had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with some of the Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly and provocatively in dancing at one end of the room.

            Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too much engrossed by his thoughts to

perceive that Sir William Lucas was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began:

            “What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy!  There is nothing like dancing after all.   I consider it as one of the first refinements of the polished societies.”            “Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world.   Every savage can dance.”

            Sir William only smiled.   “Your friend performs delightfully,” he continued after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; “and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy.”

             “You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir.”

             “Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight.   Do you often dance at the St. James’s?”

            “Never, sir.”

            “Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?”

             “It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it.”

             “You have a house in town, I conclude?”

            Mr. Darcy bowed.

            “I had once had some thought of fixing in town myself – for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas.”

            He paused in hopes of an answer; but his companion was not disposed to make any; and Elizabeth at that instant moving towards them, he was struck with the action of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to her:

            “My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you, and so revealingly displayed,” Sir William added, leering lasciviously at the swell of her breasts, which were fairly spilling from her gown. And, taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy, who, though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she insistently drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William:

            “Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing.   I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.”

            Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the honour of her hand, but in vain.   Elizabeth was determined; nor did Sir William at all shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion.

            “You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness in seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half-hour.”

             “Mr. Darcy is all politeness,” said Elizabeth, smiling. “He is, indeed; but, considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisance – for who would object to such a partner?   The man is a specimen of masculinity, is he not?”

            Elizabeth looked archly, glancing once at Darcy’s groin region, which was indeed beginning its bold ascent at the spectacle of her bounteous breasts, so pleasingly plush, and turned away. Her resistance had not injured her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her with some complacency, when thus accosted by Miss Bingley:

             “I can guess the subject of your reverie.”

            “I should imagine not.”

            “You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner – in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed!   The insipidity, and yet the noise – the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!”

            “Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow – that, and the magnificence two alert, cherry-red nipples

barely concealed by the thin film of a lady’s fine attire can inspire.”

            Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections. Mr. Darcy replied with great intrepidity:

            “Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” “Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” repeated Miss Bingley.   “I am all astonishment.   How long has she been such a favourite? – and prey, when am I to wish you joy?”

            “That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady’s imagination is

very rapid; it jumps from admiration to lust, from lust to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.”

            “Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law, indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you.”

             He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to entertain herself in this manner; and as his composure convinced her that all was safe, her wit flowed long.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Mr. Bennet’s property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two hundred thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother’s fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply the deficiency of his. Her father had been an attorney in Meryton, and had left her four hundred thousand pounds. She had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a clerk to their father and succeeded him in the business, and a brother settled in London in a respectable line of trade.

             The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually tempted thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt and to a lingerie shop just over the way. The two youngest of the family, Catherine and Lydia, were particularly frequent in these attentions; their minds were more vacant that their sisters’, and when nothing better offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and however bare of the news the country in general might be, they always contrived to learn some from their aunt. At present, indeed, they were well supplied both with news and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in the neighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was the headquarters.

            Their visits to Mrs. Phillips were now productive of the most interesting intelligence.   Every day added something to their knowledge of the officers’ names, measurements, and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret, and at length they began to know the officers themselves. Mr. Phillips visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a store of felicity unknown before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr. Bingley’s large fortune, the mention of which gave animation to their mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of an ensign.

            After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr. Bennet coolly observed:

            “From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but now I am convinced.”

            Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia, with perfect indifferenc continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter, and her hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going the next morning to London.                

            “I am astonished, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “that you should be so ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightingly of anybody’s children, it should not by of my own, however.”

             “If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it.”

            “Yes – but as it happens, they are all of them very clever. They are making use of their sexuality to get noticed, as I have unfailingly encouraged them to do.”

            “This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. I had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I must so far differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly foolish.”

             “My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of their father and mother. When they get our age, I dare say they will not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when I liked a red coat and a muscled young buck myself very well – hardened by training exercises and spurred into extreme horniness by a concentration of testosterone and scarcely a female in sight – and, indeed, so I do still at my heart; and if a smart young colonel, with five or six hundred thousand a year, should want to use one of my girls I shall not say nay to him; and I thought Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William’s in his regimentals. He has quite large hands – did you notice? – and you know what they say.”

            “Mamma,” cried Lydia, “my aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson’s as they did when they first came; she sees them now very often standing in Clarke’s library.”

            Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with a note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited for an answer. Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly calling out, while her daughter read:

            “Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.”

             “It is from Miss Bingley,” said Jane, and then read it aloud.

            _“My Dear Friend, –_

_“If you are not so compassionate as to dine today with Louisa and me, we shall be in_

_danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day’s tête-à-tête between two women can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on receipt of this.   My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers. – Yours ever,_

_“Caroline Bingley.”_

            “With the officers!” cried Lydia.   “I wonder my aunt did not tell us of that!”

            “Dining out,” said Mrs. Bennet, “that is very unlucky.”

            “Can I have the carriage?” said Jane.

            “No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and

then you must stay all night.”

            “That would be a good scheme,” said Elizabeth, “if you were sure that they would not offer to send her home.”

            “Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley’s chaise to go to in Meryton, and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.”

            “I had much rather go in the coach.”

            “But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure.   They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are they not?”

            “They are wanted on the farm much oftener than I can get them.”

 “But if you have got them to-day,” said Elizabeth, “my mother’s purpose of compromising Jane’s virtue in the hopes of securing a fortune will be answered.”

             She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgement that the horses were engaged.   Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her mother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad day. Her hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long before it rained hard.   Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission; Jane certainly could not come back.

            “This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!” said Mrs. Bennet more than once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own.   “We can only hope that Mr. Bingley will take his opportunity to bed dear Jane once again.” Till the next morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her contrivance.   Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield brought the following note for Elizabeth:

                        _“My Dearest Lizzy, –_

_“I will find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. I arrived at Netherfield looking like a contestant in a wet blouse contest, which appeared to arouse Mr. Bingley immensely. I am pleased to report that my tally regarding the pleasures of the flesh now stands at three. Unfortunately, the drenched and soon after naked state of me – I was entirely incoherent during the proceedings due to a prolonged swell of sexual ecstasy so intense the experience is difficult indeed to describe in mere words, but suffice to say the rather lewd yet astoundingly pleasure-inducing things that man can do with his tongue are not to be understated, and I neglected to cover up for quite some time – has left me with a chill. My kind friends will not hear of my returning till I am better. They insist also on seeing Mr. Jones – therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of this having been to me – and, excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much the matter with me. – Yours, etc.”_

            “Well, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note aloud, “if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness – if she should die, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.”

            “Oh! I am not afraid of her dying. People do not die of little trifling will be taken good care of. Bingley will keep her warm. As long as she stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see her if I could have the carriage.”

            Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to her, though the carriage was not to be had; and as she was no horsewoman, walking was her only alternative.   She declared her resolution.

             “How can you be so silly,” cried her mother, “a to think of such a thing, in all this dirt!   You will not be fit to be seen when you get there.”

             “I shall be very fit to see Jane – which is all I want.”

            “Is this a hint to me, Lizzy,” said her father, “to send for the horses?”

             “No, indeed, I do not wish to avoid the walk. This distance is nothing when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner.”

             “I admire the activity of your benevolence,” observed Mary, “but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required. I only exert myself when absolutely necessary.” She thwacked a small whip against her leather-clad thigh for effect.

            “We will go as far as Meryton with you,” said Catherine and Lydia. Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off together.

            “If we make haste,” said Lydia, as they walked along, “perhaps we may see something of Captain Carter before he goes. In fact, I saw quite a lot of him the other day,” she giggled.   “Well, saw isn’t entirely truthful.   He insisted on blindfolding me.   Tasted might be more accurate.”

             In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one of the

officers’ wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over styles and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, luscious, rounded breasts rising and falling with the exertion (she had even popped two buttons climbing a fence), and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.

             She was shown into the breakfast parlour, where all but Jane were assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise. That she should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in contempt for it. She was received, however, very politely by them; and in their brother’s manners there was something better than politeness; there was good humour and kindness. Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. Hurst nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration of the brilliance which exercise had given to her complexion and the glorious bounty of her barely-covered and heaving bosom, and doubt as to the occasion’s justifying her coming so far alone. The latter was thinking only of his breakfast, with a brief consideration of the wiggle of Miss Bingley’s ample buttocks as she rose to pour some tea.

            Her inquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and not well enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience from expressing in her note how much she longed for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal, however, to much conversation, and when Miss Bingley left them together, could attempt little besides expressions of gratitude for the extraordinary kindness she was treated with. Mr. Bingley had not only inquired after her health in the middle of the night, he had climbed into bed with her, insisting that skin against skin was the most effective way to warm her body – it was a well-known Eskimo technique, he relayed; she had awoken some time later very warm indeed and also coated with a sticky substance Bingley had subsequently taken care to remove during a warm sponge bath (bringing her tally to four, incidentally), encouraging Jane to return the favour. In fact, she had managed very little sleep. Elizabeth silently attended her.

             When breakfast was over they were joined by the sisters; and Elizabeth began to like them herself, when she saw how much affection they showed for Jane. The apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught a violent cold, and that they must endeavour to get the better of it; advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts. The advice was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment; nor were the other ladies often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had, in fact, nothing to do elsewhere.

             When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and very unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concern in parting with her, that Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer of the chaise to an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay and bring back a supply of clothes.

 

 

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	8. Chapter 8

At five o’clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half-past six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. To the civil inquiries which then poured in, and amongst which she had the pleasure of distinguishing the much superior solicitude of Mr. Bingley’s, she could not make a very favourable answer. Jane was by no means better. The sisters, on hearing this, repeated three or four times how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how e being ill themselves; and then thought no more of the matter: and their indifference towards Jane when not immediately before them restored Elizabeth of the enjoyment of all her former dislike.

            Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his attentions to herself most pleasing, and they prevented her feeling herself so much an intruder as she believed she was considered by the others. She had very little notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as for Mr. Hurst, by whom Elizabeth sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to eat, drink, fuck, and play at cards; who, when he found her to prefer a plain dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to her.

            When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room.   Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she had no conversation, no style, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the same, and added:

            “She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker.   I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild.”

            “She did, indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair, so untidy, so blowsy!”

            “Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it not doing its office.”

             “Your picture may be very exact, Louisa,” said Bingley; “but this was all lost

upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice. I was much more preoccupied with her top half. Riveted, in fact.”

             “You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley; “and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your sister make such an exhibition.”

             “Certainly not.”

             “To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone!   What could she mean by it?   It seems to me to show an

abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum.”

             “It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing,” said Mr. Bingley.

             “I am afraid, Mr. Darcy,” observed Miss Bingley in a half whisper, “that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes.”

            “Not at all,” he replied; “they were brightened by the exercise.   And those breasts; I thought them luscious before, but the way they were heaving and bouncing and straining against that thin fabric – a fine sight and one that has succeeded in adding some ink to my quill, if you get my meaning.”  

            A short pause followed this speech, and Miss Bingley, although not voicing her response directly, murmured under her breath: “And what a quill it is, big boy.”

             Mrs. Hurst began again: “I have an excessive regard for Miss Jane Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled.   But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it.”

            “I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton.”

            “Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.”

            “That is capital,” added her sister, and they both laughed heartily. “If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside,” cried Bingley, “it would not make them one jot less agreeable.”

            “But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world,” replied Darcy.

             To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisters gave it their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the expense of their dear friend’s vulgar relations.

            With a renewal of tenderness, however, they returned to her room on leaving the dining parlour, and sat with her till summoned to coffee. She was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not quit her at all, till late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her sleep, and when it seemed to her rather right than pleasant that she should go downstairs herself. On entering the drawing room she found the whole party at loo, and was immediately invited to join them; but suspecting them to be getting high she declined it, and making her sister the excuse, said she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay below, with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment.

            “Do you prefer reading to toking up?” said he; “that is rather singular.”

“Miss Eliza Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, “despises weed. She suffers from acute paranoia whenever she indulges in a quiet reefer. She is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else.”

             “I deserve neither such praise nor such censure,” cried Elizabeth; “I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.”

             “In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure, as do I,” said Bingley; “and I

hope it will be soon increasing by seeing her quite well.”

             Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards the table where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her others – all that his library afforded.    “And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I ever looked into. I’m far more interested in living my erotica than in titillating myself vicariously.”

             Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those in the room.

            “I am astonished,” said Miss Bingley, “that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!”

            “It ought to be good,” he replied, “it has been the work of many generations.   And if you think that’s impressive, you should see our ‘playroom’. The tendency towards sexual domination runs in my family and we have quite an arsenal of bondage gear, both domestic and exotic.”             “And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books, not to mention newfangled paraphernalia.”

            “I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in days such as these, and I take great pride in presenting a well-stocked and dedicated area to indulge one’s baser inclinations, so they are ready and waiting whenever the need arises – pardon the pun.   I am in no way a sadist – a claim which several members of my extended family cannot truthfully profess – yet I do admit a certain fascination with the frontiers of sensual pleasure in its many any varied forms, an interest which could hardly be called a failing, I’m sure the ladies present will agree.”           “Neglect!   I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place, nor any buxom beauties which may so happen to enter it. Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley.”

            “I wish it may.”

            “And as for the frontiers of sensual pleasure, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bingley cooed, “one can only hope for a private invitation to your library.”

            “I rarely explore such frontiers in my library, Miss Bingley, although I wouldn’t rule it out.” Flushed, Miss Bingley continued to berate her brother.   “But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model.   There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire.”

             “With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it.”

            “I am talking of possibilities, Charles.”

            “Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation.”

            Elizabeth was so much caught with what passed, as to leave her very little attention for her book; and soon laying it wholly aside she drew near the bong-table, and stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest sister, to observe the proceedings.

            “Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?” said Miss Bingley; “will she be as tall as I am?”

            “I think she will.   She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s height, or rather taller.”           “How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so supremely accomplished for her age! Her performance with a striptease is exquisite.”

            “It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”

             “All young ladies accomplished!   My dear Charles, what do you mean?”

             “Yes, all of them, I think. They all fondle garden cucumbers, belly dance, and practice exposing themselves with deliberately coy timidity. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”

            “Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has too much truth.   The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by belly dancing or deep throating a cucumber. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimations of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”

             “Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.

            “Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.”

            “Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it.”

            “Oh! certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with.   A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, the provocativeness of her approach to a man and the rigidity of his arousal, or the word will be but half-deserved.”

            “All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading, and the improvement of her body by presenting it in a coquettishly revealing manner.”

             “I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women.   I rather wonder now at your knowing any.”

             “Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?”

             “I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, allure and elegance, as you describe united.”

            Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who answered this description, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room.            “Elizabeth Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, “is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art.”

             “Undoubtedly,” replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, “there is a meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation.   Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable.”

             Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to continue the subject. Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, and that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones being sent for immediately; while his sisters, convinced that no country advice could be of any service, recommended an express to town for one of the most eminent physicians. This she would not hear of; but she was not so unwilling to comply with their brother’s proposal; and it was settled that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning, if Miss Bennet were not decidedly better. Bingley was quite uncomfortable; his sisters declared that they were miserable. They solaced their wretchedness, however, by duets after supper, while he could find no better relief to his feelings than by giving his housekeeper directions that every attention might be paid to the sick lady and her sister, and he begged Elizabeth take her leave after midnight so he could spoon Jane in a suitably Eskimo fashion.

 

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	9. Chapter 9

Elizabeth passed the chief of the night in her sister’s room (aside from the two hour banishment at Bingley’s request), and in the morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable answer to the inquiries which she very early received from Mr. Bingley by a housemaid, and some time afterwards from the two elegant ladies who waited on his sisters. In spite of this amendment, however, she requested to have a note sent to Longbourn, desiring her mother to visit Jane, and form her own judgement of her situation. The note was immediately dispatched, and its contents as quickly complied with.   Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by her two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast.

            Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing that her illness was not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her restoration to health would probably remove her from Netherfield, and from the very real possibility that Bingley would continue to service Jane in a way that might encourage his attachment to her tender and complete compliance.   She would not listen, therefore, to her daughter’s proposal of being carried home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think it at all advisable.   After sitting a little while with Jane, on Miss Bingley’s appearance and invitation, the mother and three daughters all attended her into the breakfast parlour. Bingley met with them with hopes that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Bennet worse than she expected.

            “Indeed I have, sir,” was her answer. “She is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness.”

             “Removed!” cried Bingley.   “It must not be thought of.   My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal.”

            “You may depend upon it, Madam,” said Miss Bingley, with cold civility, “that Miss Bennet will receive every possible attention while she remains with us.”

            Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments.

            “I am sure,” she added, “if it was not for such good friends I do not know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest temper I have ever met with.   I often tell my other girls they are nothing to her.   You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect over the gravel walk.   I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield.   You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease.”

             “Whatever I do is done in a hurry,” replied he; “and therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.”

            “That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,” said Elizabeth.

 “You begin to comprehend me, do you?” cried he, turning towards her.

            “Oh! yes – I understand you perfectly.”

             “I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful.”

            “That is as it happens. It does not follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.”

            “Lizzy,” cried her mother, “remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.”

            “I did not know before,” continued Bingley immediately, “that you were a studier of character.   It must be an amusing study.”

             “Yes, but intricate characters are the most amusing. They have at least that advantage.”        “The country,” said Darcy, “can in general supply but a few subjects for such a study.   In a country neighbourhood you move in very confined and unvarying society.”

            “But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever.”

             “Yes, indeed,” cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. “I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country than in town.   My girls can provide as much amusement for a gentleman like yourself – nay, more so I dare say – than any city hussy might.”

            Everybody was surprised, and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph.

            “I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is it not, Mr. Bingley? And the girls are fresh-faced and well fed, with milky skin and pink cheeks. What could be more pleasing?”

            “When I am in the country,” he replied, “I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. The city girls are more forward while the country girls – I quite agree – have that fresh, ripe appeal that has been known to get me off in a matter of minutes. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.”

            “Aye – that is because you have the right disposition.   But that gentleman,” looking at Darcy, “seemed to think the country was nothing at all.”

            “Indeed, Mamma, you are mistaken,” said Elizabeth, blushing for her mother.   “You quite mistook Mr. Darcy.   He only meant that there was not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in the town, which you must acknowledge to be true.”

            “Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families.”

             Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep his countenance.   His sister was less delicate, and directed her eyes towards Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile.   Elizabeth, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother’s thoughts, now asked her if Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since her coming away.

            “Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley, is not he? So much the man of fashion! So genteel and easy! He had always

something to say to everybody. That is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important, and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter.”

             “Did Charlotte dine with you?”

             “No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince-pies. For my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants that can do their own work; my daughters are brought up very differently. But everybody is to judge for themselves, and the Lucases are a very good sort of girls, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think Charlotte so very plain – but then she is our particular friend.”

            “She seems a very pleasant young woman.”

             “Oh! dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Jane’s beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Jane – one does not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own partiality. And she’s even more stunning nude than she is clothed. When was only fifteen, there was a man at my brother Gardiner’s in town so much in heat for her that my sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. But, however, he did not.   Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were.”

            “And so ended his affection,” said Elizabeth impatiently. “There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!”

            “I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love,” said Darcy.

            “Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.”

            Darcy only smiled; and the general pause which ensued made Elizabeth tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself again. She longed to speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs. Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to Jane, with an apology for troubling him also with Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part indeed without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of her daughters put herself forward. The two girls had been whispering to each other during the whole visit, and the result of it was, that the youngest should tax Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.

            Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion, take-me lips, and a good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose affection had brought her into public at an early age. She had high animal spirits, a tendency to expose herself with very little provocation, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the attention of the officers, to whom her uncle’s good dinners, and her own easy manners recommended her, had increased into assurance.   She was very equal, therefore, to address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the ball, and abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer to this sudden attack was delightful to their mother’s ear:           “I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of the ball. In fact, I was thinking of hosting an orgy rather than a ball – they’re so much more interesting. But you would not wish to be dancing, or engaging in any other type of frivolities, I might add – when she is ill.”

            Lydia declared herself satisfied. “Oh! yes – it would be much better to wait till Jane was well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter would be at Meryton again. And when you have given your orgy,” she added, “I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell

Colonel Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not.”

             Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth returned to Jane, leaving her own and her relations’ behaviour to the remarks of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy; the latter of whom, however, could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of her, in spite of all Miss Bingley’s witticisms on fine eyes and luscious, pink nipples.

 

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	10. Chapter 10

The day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who continued, though slowly, to mend; and in the evening Elizabeth joined their party in the drawing room. The drugs-table, however, did not appear. Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching the progress of his letter and repeatedly calling off his attention by messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was observing their game.

            Elizabeth took up a garden cucumber, and was sufficiently amused in attending to what passed between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual commendations of the lady, either on his handwriting, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was exactly in union with her opinion of each.

             “How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a long letter!”

 He made no answer.

            “You write uncommonly fast.”

             “You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.” He added under his breath, “Indeed I am extremely meticulous and very thorough. Divinely, torturously so.”

            She paused at his expression but had not overheard his low, lustful insinuation. “How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!”

            “It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours.”

            “Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.”

            “I have already told her so once, by your desire.”

             “I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend if for you. I mend pens remarkably well.”

             “Thank you – but I always mend my own.”

            “How can you contrive to write so even?”

            He was silent.

            “Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement with the lap dance; and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a whip, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley’s.”

             “Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At present I have not room to do them justice.”

             “Oh! it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January.   But do you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?”

            “They are generally long; but whether always charming is not for me to determine.”

             “It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter with ease, cannot write ill.”

            “That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline,” cried her brother, “because he does not write with ease. He studies too much for words of four letters, and occasionally four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?”

            “My style of writing is very different from yours.”

            “Oh!” cried Miss Bingley, “Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest.”

             “My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them – by which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents. And it’s the same with my sperm – they sometimes want out before I’ve even conveyed pleasure upon the receiver. Such was the case last night, I believe, since Jane did not add to the tally she’s taken to carrying around with her. I, however, erupted no less than twice.”

             “Your humility, Mr. Bingley,” said Elizabeth, “must disarm reproof.”

             “Nothing is more deceitful,” said Darcy, “than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast.”

            “And which of the two do you call my little recent piece of modesty?”

             “The indirect boast; for you are really proud of your defects in writing and shagging, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of thought or action, such as the case may be, and carelessness of execution, which, if not estimable, you think at least highly interesting. The power of doing anything with quickness is always prized much by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you told Mrs. Bennet this morning that if you ever resolved upon quitting Netherfield you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of compliment to yourself – and yet what is there so very laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business undone, as was the case with Jane last evening, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or anyone else?”

            “Nay,” cried Bingley, “this is too much, to remember at night all the foolish things that were said and done in the morning. And yet, upon my honour, I believe what I said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this moment. I’m capable of reducing a woman to tears of pleasure if and when I so choose to. I don’t always choose to. Jane was ill; I did not want her to be overtaxed. My intent was merely to warm her, and once we were locked in an intimate and entirely naked embrace, it seemed wasteful not to avail myself to at least one happy ending – it took scarcely any time at all. And then, not an hour later, well, suffice to say another sponge bath was called for. At least, therefore, I did not assume the character of needless precipitance merely to show off before the ladies.”

            “I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as dependent on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were mounting a woman, a friend were to say, ‘Bingley, you had better have your way with that one, then help yourself to seven of my sisters,’ you would probably do it, you would probably take them all – and at another word, might stay a month to do it all over again.”   “You have only proved by this,” cried Elizabeth, “that Mr. Bingley did not do justice to his own disposition. You have shown him off now much more than he did himself.”

            “I am exceedingly gratified,” said Bingley, “by your converting what my friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. But I am afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means intend; for he would certainly think better of me, if under such a circumstance I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I could.”

            “Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intentions as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?”

             “Upon my word, I cannot exactly explain the matter; Darcy himself must speak for himself.”

             “You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to call mine, but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to stand according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet, that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, and the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering one argument in favour of its propriety.”

             “To yield readily – easily – to the persuasion of a friend is no merit with you.”

             “To yield without conviction to the understanding of either.”

            “You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make one readily yield to a request, without waiting for arguments to reason one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the circumstance occurs before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and friend, where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?”

             “Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties?”

            “By all means,” cried Bingley; “let us hear all the particulars, not forgetting their comparative height and size of the seven sisters to whom you refer; for that will have more weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure you, that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, blessed with gargantuan endowments, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not know a more awful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening, when he has nothing to do.”

             Mr. Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that he was rather offended, and therefore checked her laugh. Miss Bingley warmly resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her brother for talking such nonsense.

            “I see your design, Bingley,” said his friend. “You dislike an argument, and want to silence this.”

             “Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss Bennet

will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me.”

            “What you ask,” said Elizabeth, “is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr. Darcy had much better finish this letter.”

             Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter.

            When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley for an indulgence of some music; to Elizabeth, he applied for an indulgence of a lap dance. Miss Bingley moved with some alacrity to the pianoforte; and, after a polite request that Elizabeth would lead the way which the other as politely and earnestly negatived, she seated herself.

            Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister, and while they were thus employed, Elizabeth could not help observing, as she gently gyrated against Mr. Darcy, how frequently Mr. Darcy’s eyes were fixed on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of admiration to so great a man; and yet that he should look at her and request that she rub herself against him because he disliked her, was still more strange. She could only imagine, however, at last that she drew his notice because there was something more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She liked him too little to care for his approbation. She could acknowledge, however, that his hardening erection under her gently grinding buttocks was indeed in a league of its own.

            After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a lively Scottish air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, rearing up slightly against Elizabeth, said to her:

            “Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of a dancing reel?”

            She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some surprise at her silence.

             “Oh!” said she, “I heard you before, but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say ‘Yes,’ that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell you, that I do not want to dance a reel at all – and now despise me if you dare.”

            “Indeed I do not dare.”

            Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. Even her gentle, coquettish gyrations had managed to inspire a raging arousal, and he was astounding to find that he was, already, fast approaching maximum overload. He repositioned her, holding her hips with his hands, to slow her movement.   He really believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger. Miss Bingley saw, or suspected enough to be jealous; and her great anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received some assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth.

            She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by talking of their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance.

            “I hope,” said she, as they were walking together in the shrubbery the next day, “you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, do cure the younger girls of running after officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses.”

            “Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?”

            “Oh! yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Phillips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth’s picture, you must not have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes and those – what was the descriptor you insisted upon: luscious, pink nipples?”

            “It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied. And as for her nipples, I agree it would take an artist of fine skill to portray the firm, rounded shape and the piqued, flushed colour of them. But we shan’t know if can be done until we commission such a portrait, under my guidance, and with my fingers on hand to tease them to their utmost pertness.”

             At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs. Hurst and Elizabeth herself.

            “I did not know that you intended to walk,” said Miss Bingley, in some confusion, lest they had been overheard.

             “You used us abominably ill,” answered Mrs. Hurst, “running away without telling us that you were coming out.” Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Elizabeth to walk by herself. The path just admitted three. Mr. Darcy felt their rudeness, and immediately said: “This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue.”

But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with them, laughingly answered: “No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good-bye.”

            She then ran gaily off, rejoicing as she rambled about, in the hope of being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already so much recovered as to intend leaving her room for a couple of hours that evening.

 

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	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi I will be posting chapters once or twice a day for now. I hope you enjoy this chapter, please don't forget to comment.

When the ladies removed after dinner, Elizabeth ran up to her sister, and seeing her well guarded from the cold by Bingley, who was not only wrapped around her but thrusting his cock insistently into her tightened fist, took leave momentarily while Jane finished him off. Soon after, once Bingley had wiped his seed from Jane’s breasts, dressed and assured Jane he would return to her shortly, Elizabeth attended her into the drawing room, where she was welcomed by her two friends with many professions of pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable as they were during the hours which passed before the gentlemen appeared. Their powers of conversation were considerable. They could describe an entertainment with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, confess their most recent sensual act with admirably descriptive aplomb, and laugh at their acquaintance with spirit.

            But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first object, especially when Bingley made a shocking yet welcome proposal: that tonight they conduct a quiet, debauched practice run for the upcoming orgy. Bingley’s suggestion was deliberated upon momentarily, and finally agreed to; since each in attendance, save Elizabeth, had designs of one sort or another upon at least one of the present company; one by one, consent was given. Elizabeth, although she had never participated in an orgy before, loathed to be the only guest to refuse; such was the adventurousness and liveliness of her character that she, with only mild reluctant, agreed to proceed with the evening’s frivolities. Miss Bingley, who was rather more experienced with orgiastic pursuits, turned her eyes instantly toward Darcy, and without provocation she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing her bare breasts to him before he had advanced many steps. He addressed himself to Miss Bennet, with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst also made her a slight bow, unbuttoning his trousers and presenting his mildly impressive, dusky woody, and said he was “very glad;” but diffuseness and warmth remained for Bingley’s salutation.   He was full of joy and lust.   The first half hour was spent in piling up the fire and placing Jane on a bearskin rug in front of it, lest she should suffer from the change of room; and she removed at his desire and playful insistence every stitch of her clothing, revealing her flushed and pinkened skin for all to see, parting her legs slightly at his instigation. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to anyone else, rubbing his length between her ample breasts and garnishing her with a gleaming pearl necklace. Elizabeth, at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with great delight.

            When tea was over, Mr. Hurst reminded his sister-in-law of the card table – but in vain. She had obtained private intelligence that Mr. Darcy did not wish for a romp upon the table at present; and Mr. Hurst soon found even his open petition rejected. She assured him that no one intended to play, and the silence of the whole party on the subject seemed to justify her. Mr. Hurst had therefore nothing to do, but to stretch himself on one of the sofas and go to sleep for a time. Darcy began to masturbate; Miss Bingley did the same; and Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in playing with her belly button and nipple rings, joined now and then in her brother’s conversation with Miss Bennet.

            Miss Bingley’s attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. Darcy’s progress through his task, as in performing her own; and she was perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his cock. She could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her question, and beat on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to summon her own climax, which she was having some difficulty obtaining without his help, she petitioned Mr. Hurst, with her sister’s resigned permission – who had by this juncture regained not only his consciousness but also his vigour – to fuck her senseless upon the settee, crying out in the final throes of his forceful possession. After his withdrawal, she gave a great yawn and said, “How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like shagging! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a hard cock grinding against one’s g-spot and producing the most wonderful orgasm! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent chambers to enjoy hosting small, private orgies of my own.”      No one made any reply. She then yawned again, and cast her eyes round the room in quest for some amusement; when hearing her brother mentioning the upcoming town orgy to Miss Bennet, she turned suddenly towards him and said:

            “By the by, Charles, are you really serious in meditating an orgy at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom an orgy comprised almost entirely of country folk would be rather a punishment than a pleasure.”

            “If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he chooses, but as for the orgy, it is quite a settled thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough – no pun intended – I shall send round my cards.”

            “I should like orgies infinitely better,” she replied, “if they were carried on in a

different manner; but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting.   It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of wordless mating were made the order of the day.”

             “Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not attract near so many people. And besides, you always get well into the spirit of the meetings once they get underway. And they’re hardly wordless. Why, at the last orgy, you were screaming for Mr. Hurst to possess you even as you rode that stable hand. We all know you enjoy not only your fair share of ménage, serious in meditating an orgy at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom an orgy comprised almost entirely of country folk would be rather a punishment than a pleasure.”

            Miss. Bingley made no answer, and soon afterward she got up and walked about the room, displaying her naked figure for all to see. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but Darcy at whom it was all aimed, was still inflexibly studious upon his own ginormous penis. In the desperation of her feelings, she resolved on one effort more, and, turning to Elizabeth, said:

            “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.”

             Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss Bingley slowly undressed Elizabeth, hoping the attention she paid to Elizabeth would succeed in turning Darcy on enough to _give her_ what she wanted of him; she took care with each layer, stripping it from Elizabeth’s nubile young body in a most provocative manner, even being bold as to gently suckle the very tips of Elizabeth nipples- an activity she felt certain would excite Darcy to a very specific end- until the they peaked into tight, round buds. Miss Bingley then positioned Elizabeth in all sorts of revealing poses and paraded her young glistening arousal for all to see. It was a splendid display. Miss Bingley succeeded no less in the real object of her civility; Mr. Darcy looked up, watching the proceedings with great interest. He was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as Elizabeth herself could be, and unconsciously let the movement of his hand slow yet not cease entirely. He was directly invited to join their party, but he declined it observing that he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down the room together in such a state of undress, with either of which motives his joining them would interfere. “What could he mean? She was dying to know what could be his meaning?”- and asked Elizabeth whether she could at all understand him?

            “Not at all,” was her answer; “but depend up it, he means to be severe on us, denying us what we most fervently desire, and our surest way to disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it.”

             Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Darcy in anything, and persevered therefore in the requiring an explanation of his two motives.

            “I have not the smallest objection to explaining them,” said he, as soon as she allowed him to speak. “You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret affairs to conduct upon each, which I would suppose might be at least in part true, if Miss Bingley’s fingers lightly caressing the piqued nipples of Elizabeth even now are any evidence to go by, and indeed the rubbing your own breast in a soft, circular motion against hers, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire, especially if you bend over just slightly, Elizabeth, yes, just so.”   

            “Oh shocking!” cried Miss Bingley. “I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech? Shall I take you over my knee, Mr. Darcy?’

            “Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,” said Elizabeth, now getting into the spirit of the evening. “We can all discipline and punish one another. Tease him- laugh at him. Offer your breast to his mouth yet out of reach. Intimate as you are, must know how it is to be done.”

            “But upon my honour, I do not. Well, maybe just a little. I do assure you that my intimacy has not taught me that. Although I am a quick learner and in fact somewhat more experienced than you might imagine. I will take you at suggestion and plump my breast close to his parted lips, yet not offer to his mouth. You try it, Elizabeth. Oh, look! His erection, too, gets even harder. Tease calmness of manner and presence of mind. No, No- feel he may defy us there. And as to laugh, we will not expose ourselves any more than we already have - which it must be said is quite a lot – if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. Darcy may pleasure himself.”

            Mr. Darcy is not to be laugh at!” cried Elizabeth. “That is an uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintance. I dearly love a laugh.”

            “Miss Bingley,” said he, “has given me more credit than can be. The wisest and the best of men – nay, the wisest and best of their actions – may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke.”

            “That erection is no joke,” commented Miss Bingley

            “Certainly,” replied Elizabeth – “there are such people, but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is big and wise and good – nor an erection of such poise and promise. I dare not imagine – Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, limpness and premature ejaculation, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what are without.”

            “Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule.”

            “Such as vanity and sexual prowess.”

            “Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But sexual prowess – where there is real superiority of mind and body, genuine talent in the sack will be always under goo regulation.”

            Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.

            “Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume,” said Miss Bingley,” and pray what is the result? Will he agree to fuck one of us or not? Or at least smack us with his hands in a most sensitive given to the placement and rhythm?”

            “I perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. Just look at that splendid appendage he so gently stokes with well deserved pride. He owns it himself without disguise.”

            “No,” said Darcy,” I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope of understanding nor of anatomy. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, to little yielding – certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My cock is puffed up by every attempt to touch it, nor my balls. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion, once lost, is lost lost forever. And once I dip myself into a woman who begs, I almost immediately begin to lose interest.”

            ‘That is a failing indeed!” cried Elizabeth. “Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. And so is disinterest in the face of a pleading bitch. I really cannot laugh at them. And I, incidentally, have never once begged in my life. You are safe from me.”

            “There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil – a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”

            “And what your defect is to hate everybody.”

            “And yours,” he replied with a smile, “is willfully to misunderstand them. If there was ever a woman I wished to beg me on hands and knees, she may in fact be present in this very room.”

            “Do let us have a little music, or at least some distraction,” cried Miss Bingley, tired of the conversation in which she had no share, and more than mildly peeved that Darcy was not insinuating that he wanted her to prostrate herself in front of his slick and throbbing member. She was by now, naked and agitated by the sight of such unattainable splendor, in need of some immediate gratification. “Louisa, you will not mind, my sucking off Mr. Hurst?”

            Her sister had not the smallest objection and Mr. Hurst, needless to say, was overjoyed by the hungry ministrations of Miss Bingley’s frustration; and Darcy, after a few moments’ recollection, was not sorry for it. Her feasting looked borderline painful. Her teeth was practically bared. Yet he feared he had given too much away, a situation which only aggravated when Elizabeth bent by the fire inadvertently revealing her pink, moist intimates to him in a most unbearable manner. Overcome, his manhood gushed in spurting pulses at the very sight, and his unsurpassable groan, regrettably, did no escape her notice. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

In consequence of an agreement between the sisters, Elizabeth wrote the next morning to their mother to beg that the carriage might be sent for them in the course of the day. Mrs. Bennet, who had calculated on her daughters remaining at Netherfield till the following Tuesday, which would exactly finish Jane’s week, could not bring herself to receive them with pleasure before. Her plan was to have at least one daughter well and truly impregnated by one of the young bank accounts, er, bachelors on offer, and in this way, securing of a hasty marriage proposal and thereby find herself under said bachelor’s financial jurisdiction until her dying day. Her answer, therefore, was not propitious, at least to Elizabeth’s wishes, for she was impatient to get home. Mrs. Bennet sent them word that they could not possibly have the carriage before Tuesday, and in her postscript it was added that if Mr. Bingley and his sister pressed them to stay longer, she could spare them very well. Against staying longer, after the haunting image of Darcy’s deliciously ample endowment and its milky eruption etched riotously into her brain, Elizabeth was positively resolved. Fearful of being considered as intruding themselves needlessly long, she urged Jane to borrow Mr. Bingley’s carriage immediately, and at length it was settled that their original design of leaving Netherfield that morning should be mentioned, and the request made.

         The communication excited many professions of concern; and enough was said of wishing them to stay at least till the following day to work on Jane, and till the morrow their going was deferred. Miss Bingley was then sorry that she had proposed the delay, for jealousy and dislike of one sister much exceeded her affection for the other. She, too, had developed a most fervent obsession with Mr. Darcy’s body – one select part of it in particular – and plotted to be none other than the instigator of his very next upheaval; but she was not deluded enough to suppose that her invitation would be any more well-received than it had been the previous evening.

         The master of the house heard with real sorrow that they were to go so soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade Miss Bennet that it would not be safe for her – that she was not enough recovered and had not yet allowed him access to each and every one of her delightful orifices; but Jane was firm where she felt herself to be right.

         To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence – Elizabeth had been at Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he liked – and Miss Bingley was uncivil to _her_ and more teasing than usual to himself. That Miss Bingley had crawled naked into his bed in the early hours of the morning with her warm mouth and cool fingers nearly driving him to madness of several varieties and from which he had only barely escaped intact from was a source of annoyance and certainly inspired by jealousy over his ejaculation at the sight of Elizabeth’s ridiculously virginal quim. He wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration would escape him, nothing that could elevate her with the hope of influencing his felicity; sensible that if such an idea had been suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have material weight in confirming or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely spoke ten words to her through the whole of Saturday, and though they were at one time left by themselves for half-an-hour, he adhered most conscientiously to his book, and would not even look at her.

         On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable to almost all, took place. Miss Bingley’s civility to Elizabeth increased at last very rapidly, as well as her affection for Jane; and when they parted, after assuring the latter of the the pleasure it would always give her to see her - to see either - at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most tenderly, even shook hands with the former. Elizabeth took leave of the whole party in the liveliest of spirits.

         They were not welcomed home very cordially by mother. Mrs. Bennet wondered at their coming, with scarcely a love bite, whip mark, bruise of passion or a fertilization to show for it. She thought them very wrong to give so much trouble, and was sure Jane would have caught cold again. But their father, though very laconic in his expression of pleasure, was really glad to see them; he had felt their importance in the family circle. The evening conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of its animation - and almost all its sense - by the absence of Jane and Elizabeth.

         They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of techniques of bondage and discipline; and had some extracts to admire, and some new observations of threadbare morality to listen to. Catherine and Lydia had information for them of a different sort. Much had been done and much had been said in the light that the regiment officers had dined lately with their uncle, a private had been flogged, and it had actually been hinted that Colonel Foster was going to be married.

        

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy, please review : )

“I hope, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at breakfast the next morning, “that you have ordered a good dinner to-day, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.”

         “Who do you mean, my dear I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in – and I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home.”

         “The person of whom I speak is a gentleman, a stranger.”

         Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled. “A gentleman and a stranger! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. But – good Lord! How unlucky! There is not a bit of fish to be got today. Lydia, my love, ring the bell – I must speak to Hill this moment.”

         “It is _not_ Mr. Bingley,” said her husband,” it is a person whom I have never saw in the whole course of my life.”

         This roused a general astonishment, and he had the pleasure of being eagerly questioned by his wife and five daughters at once.

         After amusing himself some time with their curiosity – for he found nothing quite so amusing as keeping his wretched wife in the dark about any all matters, he thus explained:

         “About a month ago, I received this letter; and about a fortnight ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases. You’ll likely have need to prostitute yourselves with much more dedication than you have so far had the inclination to do.”

         “Oh! My dear,” cried his wife, “I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed away form your own children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it.”

          Jane and Elizabeth tried to explain to her the nature of an entail. They had often attempted to do it before, but it was a subject on which Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason, and she continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of five daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about.

         “It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,” aid Mr. Bennet, “and nothing can clear Mr. Collins form the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. But if you will just shut the fuck up and for once listen, dear wife, to his letter, you may perhaps be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself.”

         “No, that I am sure I shall not; and I think it is very impertinent of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false friends. Why could he not keep on quarrelling with you, as his father did before him?”

         Why, indeed; he does seem to have had some filial scruples on that head, as you will hear.”

 

“ _Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent,_

_15 th October._

_‘Dear Sir, -_

_“The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the misfortune to lose him. I have frequently wished to heal the breach; but for some time I was kept back by my own doubts, fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with anyone with whom it had always pleased him to be at variance. –_ “There, Mrs. Bennet.”- _And of course there is the small matter of my own greed and the obvious detail that I would, in fact, keep all the money to myself rather than sharing it with your wrench of a wife and your admittedly delectable but nonetheless grasping daughters. My mind, however, is now made up on the subject, for having received ordination at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of the the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Who I can assure you is the most facetious, charitable sense to be sure women south of York and one who has virtually no limit to the wickedness she will not only receive but deliver. Widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory of his parish. Where it shall be my earnest endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church of England, namely: sodomy and lash. As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it is my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence.  On these grounds, I flatter myself that my present overtures are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the olive branch. I could change my mind at any juncture, especially if Lady Catherine fails in her promise to bestow all nature of sublime torture, and on a nightly basis, so I advise you to take this offer without haste. I cannot be otherwise - other than concerned at being the means of gently yet insistently helping myself to the pleasures of your luscious, naughty daughters, and beg leave to apologise for it, as well for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends but of this hereafter. My only conditions for the consideration of offering you control over your own inheritance, I must insist, of not one, no two, but three of your ripe offspring, preferably the youngest three of the five, who will share my guest chambers and do my bidding – whatever it may be and without complaint – during the duration of my visit. Of course I will adhere to the unwritten rule of endeavouring to leave their virginity in tact for their respective marriage beds, but I will also confess to you that, aside from that minor detail, I have inspired intentions for them indeed, all of which is in the best interest of your future security to allow without complaint. If you should have no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting on you and availing myself to your family, Monday, November 18 th, by four o’clock, and shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the Saturday se’ennight following, which I can do without any inconvenience, as Lady Catherine is far from objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day, and I refer of course to the act of sodomising her roughly, and repeal, as she so adores. _

_-I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your old lady and your delicious daughters, your well wisher and friend, William Collins.”_

_“_ At four o’clock, therefore, we may expect this peacemaking gentleman,” said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. “He seems to be a most conscientious and polite young man, upon my word, and I doubt not will prove s valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Catherine should be so indulgent as to let him come again, and again – excuse the pun.”

         “There I see some sense in what he says about the girls, however, and if he is disposed to make them amends, with only the small condition of using them at his whim to fondle, sodomise, and possibly institute mild techniques of torture upon them – it seems to be not just a hobby but a veritable lifestyle choice of his – I shall not be the person to discourage him, especially in the light of the power he holds over the future of our estate.”

         “Though it is difficult,” said Jane, “to guess in what way he can mean to make us the atonement he thinks are due, the wish is certainly to his credit.”

         Elizabeth was chiefly struck by his extraordinary deference for Lady Catherine, and his kind intention towards christening marrying, fisting, and burying his parishioners whenever it was required.

         “He must be an oddity, I think,” said she. “I cannot make him out. There is something very pompous in his style. And what can he mean by apologising for being next in the entail? We cannot suppose he would help it if he could. Could he be a sensible man, sir?”

         “No, my dear, I think not. I have great hopes of finding him quite the reverse. There is a mixture of servility, twistedness, and self-importance in his letter, which promises well. I am impatient to see him.”

         “In point of composition,” said Mary, “the letter does not seem defective. The idea of the olive branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I think it is well expressed. And I, for one, am interested to see what kind of instruments he brings with him. I consider myself fairly well read in the art of BDSM, yet the man sounds to be somewhat of an expert, and highly experienced.”

         To Catherine and Lydia, neither the letter nor its writer were in any degree interesting. They were becoming so used to presenting their firm young bodies to men for their pleasure in the interest of securing attention of one sort or another that the prospect hardly piqued their interest. It was next to impossible that their cousin should come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks since they had received pleasure form the society of a man in any other colour. As for mother, Mr.  Collin’s letter had done away much of her ill-will, and she was preparing to see to him with a degree of composure which astonished her husband and daughters.

         Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with great politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet indeed said little but the ladies were ready enough to talk and to begin their enticements as agreed upon. Mr. Collins seemed neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was clearly looking forward to the task at hand, which would commence once the chit-chat had been tediously attended to. He was a tall, heavy-looking young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and stately, and manners were very formal. He had not been long seated before he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of daughters; said he had heard much of their beauty and skill, but that in this instance fame had fallen short of the truth on the former and he was very much hoping. Indeed, that the same would be proven true on the latter detail in the bedroom later in the evening, which he was very much looking forward to putting to the test; and added, that he did not doubt her seeing them all in due time disposed of in marriage. This gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers; but Mrs. Bennet, who quarreled with no compliments, answered most readily.

         “You are very kind, I am sure; we are endeavouring with utmost effort to educate them thoroughly in the sensual arts so that they may lure any number of hapless millionaires to the altar, and I wish with all my heart it may prove so, for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so oddly.”

         “You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.”

         “Ah! Sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you must confess. Not that I mean to find fault _with you,_ for such things I know are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed. But let us show our gratitude for your concern. Mary, Kitty, Lydia, unbutton your blouses so that dear Mr. Collins may begin to ready himself for all manner of our hospitalities.”

         “I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing forward and precipitate. I can assure the young ladies that I come prepared to admire them, in more ways than one. At present I will not say any more about my intentions for our nocturnal pursuits, but suffice to say I intend to- “

         He was interrupted by a summons to dinner, and the girls smiled on each other. They were not only objects of Mr. Collins’s admiration, the hall, the dining room, and all its furniture, were examined and praised. At one point, being able to contain himself against  no longer a coquettish bare-breasted Kitty over a particularly fine couch, lifted her skirts and rubbed his throbbing lovetool against her backside, admiring the rounded globes of her buttocks most strenuously; and his commendation of everything would have touched Mrs. Bennet’s heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his own property. The dinner to, in its turn, was highly admired; and he begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellency of its cooking was owing. But he was set right there by Mrs. Bennet, who assured him with some asperity that they were very well able to keep a good cook. Said daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen, and were only employed to practice their burgeoning skills in the bedroom. He begged pardon for having displeased her. In a softened tone she declared herself not at all offended, and as though to prove her point, she motioned for Lydia to crawl under the table, unbutton Mr. Collins’s trousers, and take him gently in her mouth until he stiffened with satisfaction. He continued to apologise for about a quarter of an hour, until Lydia succeeded in coaxing a stunningly powerful orgasm, proceeding to swallow and suckle with youthful enthusiasm until he was half-stupored with approval; he was decidedly convinced that the girls’ skill more than lived up to the reputation that preceded them, and could scarcely wait until he got at least three of them behind closed doors.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the delay. Enjoy.

During dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all; but when the servants were withdrawn, he thought it time to have some conversation with his guest, and therefore started a subject in which he expected him to shine, by observing that he seemed very fortunate in his patroness. Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s attention to his wishes, and consideration for his comfort and devious tendencies, appeared very remarkable. Mr. Bennet could not have chosen better. Mr. Collins was eloquent in her praise. The subject elevated him more than usual solemnity of manner and the memory of her crotchless leather mistress – detailed too Mr. Bennet in detail – also reestablished Mr. Collins’s erection after the delightful climax administered so thoroughly by Mr. Bennet’s youngest not an hour before; and with a most important aspect he protested that he had never in his life witnessed such expertly executed dominatrix behaviour in a person of rank – such affability and condescension, as he had himself experienced form Lady Catherine. She had been graciously pleased to approve of both of the discourses which had already had the honour of preaching before her. She had also asked him twice to dine at Rosings, and sent for him only the Saturday before, to make up her pool of sadomasochism in the evening. Lady Catherine was reckoned overly rough by many people he knew, but “he had never seen anything affability in her. She has always spoken to him as she would to any other gentleman; she made not the smallest objection to his joining I the society of bisexuals of the neighbourhood nor to his leaving the parish occasionally for a week or two, to visit his regular whores. She had even condescended to advise him to marry as soon as he could, provided he chose with discretion; and had once paid him a visit in his humble parsonage, where she had perfectly approved all the alterations he had been making to the torture chamber, and had even vouch-safed to suggest  some improvements herself – some additional chains, and whips of several varieties, which they had proceeded to put to good use and the combination of which” – Mr. Collin’s could humbly admit to his hosts – “had bought him not only to his knees but produced the most excruciatingly-intense peak he had ever indeed experienced.”

         “That is all very proper and civil, I am sure,” said Mrs. Bennet, “and I dare say she is very agreeable woman. It is a pity that great ladies in general are not more like her. Does she live near you, sir?”

         “The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only by a lane form Rosings Park, her ladyship’s residence.”

         “I think you said she was a widow, sir? Has she any family?”

         “She has only one daughter, the heiress of Rosings, who is her understudy and reasonable skilled with a whip herself; and of very extensive property.”

         “Ah”! said Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, “then she is better off than many girls. And what sort of lady is she? Is she exceedingly domineering? Does she make you call her ‘mistress’? Is she handsome?”

         “She is a most charming and forceful young lady indeed. Lady Catherine herself says that, in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the handsomest of her sex, because there is that in her features which mark the young lady of distinguished birth; and her sex, which I have had the privilege of penetrating upon more than one occasion, is, to be sure, as gripping and demanding as one might expect. She does not come easily and only achieves orgasm at the administrations of more than one gentleman at a time. She is unfortunately of a sickly constitution, which has prevented her from making progress in many accomplishments which she could not have otherwise failed of, as I am informed by the lady who superintended her education, and who still resides with them. But she is perfectly amiable, and often condescends to frequent my humble abode with her thunderbeads and gimp in tow, a situation I find more than amenable, if you get my meaning.”

         “Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the ladies court.”

         “Has she been presented?’ Indeed. Repeatedly and in every position imaginable, but only at her own residence. Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being in town; and by that means, as I told Lady Catherine one day, has deprived the British court of its brightest ornaments. Her ladyship seemed pleased with the idea; and you may imagine that I am happy on every occasion to offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to ladies. I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine, that her charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess, and that the most elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, would be by adorned by her. Let’s be honest, I said to Lady Catherine: who isn’t charmed by the thought of a dominatrix duchess? A bejeweled crown when paired with stiletto boots, a whip and a saucy little leather toy belt – and not a stitch more – certainly paints a pleasing picture in one’s naughty fantasies, wouldn’t you agree? These are the kind of things which please her ladyship, and it is not a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to pay.”

         “You judge very properly,” said Mr. Bennet, “and it is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the result of previous study?”

         “The arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possibly. And may topic relate to the conflagration of pleasure and pain gives rise to the more charitable side of my nature, it must be said.”

         Mr. Bennet’s expectations were fully answered. His cousin was as absurd as he had hoped, and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment, maintaining at the same time the most resolute composure of countenance, and, except an occasional glance at Elizabeth, requiring no partner in his pleasure. Mr. Bennet privately avowed that he, too, would dress one of his concubines in the exact outfit Mr. Collins described, and at his very next visit to the bordello.

          By tea-time, however, the dose had been enough, and Mr. Bennet was glad to take his guest into the drawing room again, and, when tea was over, glad to invite him to read aloud to the ladies. Mr. Collins readily assented, and a book was produced; but, on beholding it (for everything announced it to be from a circulating library), he started back, and begging pardon, protested that he never read how-to guides on the sensual arts. Kitty stared at him, and Lydia exclaimed. Other books were produced, and after some deliberation he chose one of Lydia’s favourites: _Naughty or Nice, Spit or Swallow?: Ladies’ Guide to Fellatio._ Lydia gaped as he opened the volume, and before he had, with very monotonous solemnity, read three pages, she interrupted him with:

         “Speaking of fellatio, do you know, mamma, that my uncle Phillips talks of turning away Richard; and if he does, Colonel Foster will hire him. My aunt told me so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Merton tomorrow to hear more about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny comes back from town.”

         Lydia was bid by her two oldest sister to hold her tongue; but Mr. Collins, much offended, laid aside his book, and said:

         “I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by books of a serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit. It amazes me, I confess; for certainly, there can be nothing so advantageous to them as instruction. Having experienced your knowledge of fellatio first-hand, I can confirm that you are indeed skilled, yet by no means without need od repeated practice to further enhance your talent. But I will no longer importune my young cousin.”

         Then turning to Mr. Bennet, he offered himself as his antagonist at backgammon. Mr., Bennet accepted the challenge, observing that he acted very wisely in leaving the girls tot their own trifling amusements. Mrs. Bennet and her daughters apologized more civilly for Lydia’s interruption. The three girls rubbed a cherry red nipple to his mouth, promising not only that it would not happen again but that she would avail herself to his instruction at a later hour, if he would resume his book; but Mr. Collins, after assuring them that he bore his young cousin only limited ill-will, which he fully intended to exact his excitable revenge for, and sooner rather than later, nipped lightly on her nipple with his teeth, causing Lydia to squeal. Lydia’s rudeness had not only ruffled his feathers, it had also inspired a roaring erection – at least as roaring as an erection could be for a man of his rather diminutive size in that department – further enhanced by the three topless young girls that were now touching him not only with their pert young breast but also with their cool, slender fingers. Through the haze of his arousal, and after spending the evening in the company of five luscious young virgins, Mr. Collins voiced his desire to exceed his earlier demands.

         “To appease me in the wake of such an affront, I really must insist that all five girls accompany me to my bedchambers, and post haste. Strip yourselves bare, ladies, and follow me.”

         Mrs. Bennet smiled at the sight of her glorious progeny and bid the girls goodnight, reminding an eager Mr. Collins of her one stipulation: “My dear Mr., Collins, we do reasonably insist that the girls’ maidenhood remain in tact, unless your insistence is followed by an immediate marriage proposal. All other activities, however, are more than acceptable, and I do believe you’ll find their bedroom manners to be feisty and exceedingly thorough.”

         Once he had retreated to his guest quarters with the girls, he commanded that they undress him, and they obliged him most obediently and suitably coy affectations. Mr. Collins reclined on the bed, surrounded by the girls, his small arousal purpled with excitement, and attended to his first order of business.

         “My dear cousin Lydia. I’m afraid I must insist that you mollify me immediately, in the wake of your earlier outburst. Kneel between knees and beg my forgiveness. As promised, I will instruct your technique until that naughty little mouth has met my demanding approval.”

         Lydia attended to him, and found his somewhat miniature member rather easy to accommodate, following his demands adequately and with an only slightly roughened approach that was befitting a combination of her youthful insolence, a resigned acceptance, and a burgeoning skill that was in fact becoming highly impressive.

         Mr. Collins coached Lydia with great generosity. “Grip me with one hand, at the base, squeezing but not too forcefully. Now ease me between those puffy little lips, deeper, and deeper still. Use your tongue to stroke me as your debase me with your mouth and your hands.  If you tilt your head back just so, dear, you’ll find that you can take me all the way to the back of your throat. Do not roll your eyes at me, young lady. I do reach the back of your throat, almost. Now I must insist that you suck with a little more enthusiasm. Better. And with your other hand, tease me. Not so roughly. Gently, playfully. Don’t be afraid to wander. Oh yes, that’s a creative placement and again. That’s it; you are pleasing indeed dear Lydia. Increase your suction just slightly and get a feel for the rhythm so that you ease off between pulls and increase the momentum in a slow, deliberate cyclical crescendo. Try too be so tentative. Ah _yes_. Much improved, I can assure you. Carry on now, while I attend to your sisters.

          “Jane, come closer. Pray let me look at you. You have the most luscious-looking sex, have you been informed thusly.”

         “Why, yes, Mr. Collins. It has been mentioned once or twice.”

         “I’m afraid I simply must taste you. Come hither, and straddle me with your knees, just so. Lower yourself down to my face so I can lick you at my leisure.” As it was in Jane’s nature to be generous and obliging to a fault, she did as he instructed. “Kitty, Mary, while Lydia attends to me – you’re doing exceedingly well, Lydia, careful with those teeth, mind you, yes that’s it, slowly, a little faster. Oh yes, perfect. _Oh yes_ – and while I attend to Jane; Mary, Kitty, take Jane’s nipples in your mouths, on each, and suck lightly. Very nice. Use your tongues so I can see them; circle her nipples with them and lick her breasts, as though they’ve been dipped in honey, which they very nearly have, I dare say; take her nipples in your mouths again; suck on them languorously as I avail myself here. Now, where’s Elizabeth?”

         “Here, Mr. Collins.”

         “In what way would it please you to accompany?”

         “I am content to observe, dear cousin.”

         “Elizabeth prefers to abstain from much of the participation,” said Mary. “She is a romantic at heart. She endeavours to save her elation for the marriage bed, or at least until it is within sight.”

         “Quaint but admirable, I suppose,” commented Mr. Collins, groaning softly at a particularly zealous movement of Lydia’s tongue. “And allowable, perhaps, since I’m not certain I could engage you at present; it would seem I quite literally have my hands full.” He chuckled happily, reaching up to tweak Mary’s breast the grasping Jane’s buttocks in his hands and pulling her closer to his mouth.

         “In that case, Elizabeth, watch carefully. You can learn admirably from your talented and more forthcoming sisters. You girls are certainly well mannered in the sensual arts. Your beauty combined with a natural ability are certainly in evidence tonight. Oh, Lydia, yes. Mary, Kitty, commendable indeed, Jane, I simply cannot bear to wait another moment. The countenance of your exquisite quim at such close proximity fills me with joy,” And with that, he licked at Jane’s sex hungrily, saying no more.

         Mr. Collins, for all his foibles, of which there many, did know his way around a women’s clitoris. He feasted with great enjoyment and his fingers wandered most indecently, touch her everywhere, including a pauseful barely there brush at her rear entrance, a location that reminded him fondly of his dear patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. The mere thought, combined with the plethora of sensuality his lovely cousins afforded him, was very nearly enough to finish him off. He licked into Jane, pleasingly discovering a soft clenching of her sex around his tongue and, with that final encouragement, allowed himself to burst luxuriously into Lydia’s mouth.


	15. Chapter 15

Despite the fact that Mr. Collins had secured himself a lucky score and had allowed the girls little sleep during what had proved to be a most memorable night, he was not a sensible man. The deficiency of nature had been but little assisted by education or society. The greatest part of his life having been spent under the guidance of an illiterate father; and though he belonged to one of the universities, he had merely kept the necessary terms, without forming at it any useful acquaintance. The subjection in which his father had brought him up had given him originally great humility of manner. But it was now a good deal counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak head, living in retirement, and the consequential feelings of early and unexpected prosperity. A side effect of which included access to a multitude of willing bed mates, all of whom were interested much more in his wealth than his size or countenance. A fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady Catherine de Bourgh when the living of Hunsford was vacant. The respect which he felt for her high rank and quick whip, and his veneration for her as his patroness and mistress, mingling with a very good opinion of himself of his authority as a clergyman, his right as a rector. It made him altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, promiscuity, self-importance and humility.

         Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he intended to marry; and in seeking a reconciliation with the Longbourn family he had a wife in view. As he meant to choose one of the daughters, if he found them as handsome, ripe and amiable as they were represented by common report. An account he had well and truly confirmed well into the wee hours of the early morning. This was his plan of amends -  of atonement – for inheriting their father’s estate. And he thought it an excellent one, full of eligibility and suitableness, and excessively generous and disinterested on his own part.

         His plan did not vary on seeing them, forcing them to rub their nubile young bodies all over his rather less nubile one, and suck him off repeatedly. As he provided them with more thorough instructions on the intricacies of the craft than any book could have given, if he did say so himself. Miss Bennet’s lovely face and plump round ass confirmed his views, and established all his strictest notions of what was due to seniority. And despite his earliest option of choosing to share the bedtime attention of only the three youngest daughters, and then using Lydia’s snide comment to bid their placation of his ire. He had in fact, upon first seeing Jane, decided she would share his bed for the duration of his stay come hell or high water. And upon the occasion of tasting the honeyed pleasure of her woman softness, his choice was easily made. The next morning, however, made an alteration; for in a quarter of an hour’s tete-a-tete with Mrs. Bennet before breakfast. Conversation beginning with his parsonage house, and leading naturally to the avowal of his hope, that a mistress might be found for it at Longbourn. Produced from her, amid very complaisant smiles and general encouragement, a caution against the very Jane he had fixed on. “As to her _younger_ daughters, she could not take upon her to say – she could not positively answer – but she did not know of any prepossession. Her eldest daughter, she might just mention – she felt it incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged.”

         Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth – and it was soon done – done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. Elizabeth, equally next to Jane in birth and beauty and possessing of a slimmer yet equally pleasing plushness. That had had Mr. Collins practically salivating for her somewhat reticent attentions during their nocturnal playtime, succeeded her of course.

         Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might soon have two daughters married. And the man whom she could not bear to speak of the day before was now high in her good graces.

         Lydia’s intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten; every sister except Mary agreed to go with her; and Mr. Collins was to attend them, at the request of Mr. Bennet. Who was most anxious to get rid of him, and have his library to himself as he had dispatched a messenger to the brothel to invite one of his favourites. Such was the potent effect of Mr. Collin’s description of dirty duchess dominatrixes, an image he could not banish from his thoughts. He was most anxious to receive the concubine and was having trouble concentrating even as the Meryton excursion was being arranged. For thither Mr. Collins had followed him after breakfast; and there he would continue, nominally engaged with one of the largest folios in the collection. But really talking to Mr. Bennet, with little cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such doing discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly. In his Library he had been always sure of leisure, tranquility and depravity. And though prepared, as he told Elizabeth, to meet with folly and conceit in every other room of the house, he was used to being free from them there. His civility, therefore, was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their walk. Mr. Collins, being in fact more suited for walking than reading. Was extremely pleased to close his large book, and go for a stroll with four of the five young nymphs he had not only had the pleasure of tasting, rubbing himself against, and fondling in all manner of insistent indulgence. But would be again participating in equally lavish rompishness with in a matter of hours. He could barely contain his glee and his arousal at both the memory and the anticipation was very nearly uncomfortable.

         In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his cousins, including fondling the lifted buttocks of more than one of them through their skits as they strolled. And once licking Lydia’s pneumatic pink lips and thrusting his tongue into her audacious mouth when no passerby were in sight, their time passed till they entered Meryton. The attention of the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by him. Their eyes were in quest of the officers, and nothing less than a very smart corset indeed, or a really newfangled wooden dildo in a shop window, could recall them. They discussed the selection on display at length and agreed that it would indeed be a splendid state of affairs when someone finally got around to inventing and producing a pleasing device that vibrated.

         But the attention of every lady was soon caught be a young man, whom they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking with another officer on the other side of the way. The officer was the very Mr. Denny concerning whose return from London Lydia came to inquire, and he bowed as they passed. All were struck with the stranger’s air, all wondered who he could be; and Kitty and Lydia, determined if possible to find out, led the way across the street. Under pretense of wanting something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just gained the pavement when the two gentleman, turning back, had reached the same spot. Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and entreated permission to introduce his friends, Mr. Wickham. Who had returned with him the day before from town, and he was happy to say had accepted a commission in their corps. This was exactly as it should be; for the young man wanted only regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance was greatly in his favour; he had all the best party of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, full lips, and very pleasing address. He filled out his breeches in most impressive way and was admired by the young ladies for his length, which was already making itself known at the very sight of their most interested study. His manhood began to swell and strain against the cloth of his breeches most pleasingly, causing Lydia to giggle and lick her lips provocatively. The introduction was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation – a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming. The whole party were still standing and talking together very agreeably, when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were seen riding down the street. On distinguishing the ladies of the group, the two gentleman came directly towards them, and began the usual civilities. Bingley was the spokesman, and Miss Bennet the principle object. He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn on purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger. Elizabeth happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments touched his hat – a salutation which Mr. Denny Just deigned to return. What could be the meaning of it? Had they shared a clandestine encounter with the same woman? With each other? It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible mot to long to know.

         In another minute, Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to have noticed what passed, took leave and rode on with his friend.

         Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham walked with the young ladies to the door of Mr. Phillip’s house, and then made their bows. In spite of Miss Lydia’s pressing entreaties that they should come in, jutting out her breast so her nipples could plainly be seen through the fabric of her thin blouse. ‘Accidentally’ rubbing up against Mr. Wickham’s groin area, and even in spite of Mrs. Phillip’s throwing up the parlour window and loudly seconding the invitation.

         Mrs. Phillips was always glad to see her nieces; and the two eldest, from their recent absence, were particularly welcome, and she was eagerly expressing her surprise at their sudden return home. Which, as their own carriage had not fetched them, if she had not happened to see Mr. Jones’s shop-boy in the street. Who had told her that they were not to send any more draughts to Netherfield because the Miss Bennets were come away. When her civility was claimed towards Mr. Collins by Jane’s introduction of him. She received him with her very best politeness, which he returned with as much more, apologising for his intrusion, without any previous acquaintance with her. Which he could not help flattering himself however, might be justified by his close relationship to the young ladies who introduced him to her notice – _very close_ relationship, he could not help but add. Mrs. Phillips was quite awed by such an excess of good breeding; but her contemplation of one stranger was soon put to an end by exclamations and inquiries about the other. Of whom, however, she could only tell her nieces what they already knew. That Mr. Denny had brought him from London, and that he was to have a lieutenant’s commission on the – shire. She had been watching him the last hour, she said, as he walked up and down the street, and had Mr. Wickham appeared. Kitty and Lydia would certainly have continued the occupation, but unluckily no one passed windows now except a few of officers, who, in comparison with the stranger, were “stupid, soft cocked, disagreeable fellows.” Some of them were to dine with the Phillipses the next day, and their aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr. Wickham, and give him an invitation also, if the family from Longbourn would come in the evenings. This was agreed to, and Mrs. Phillips protested that they would have a nice comfortable, noisy game of strip poker. And perhaps a little bit of hot sex afterwards, of one variety or another and for those who were so inclined. The prospect of such delights was very cheering, and they parted in mutual good spirits. Mr. Collins repeated his apologies by quitting the room, and was assured with unwearyingly civility that they were perfectly needless.

         As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane what she had seen pass between the two gentleman. But Jane discarded this, thinking it was Elizabeth wanting to find more ill about the character of Mr. Darcy.

         Mr. Collins on his return highly gratified Mrs. Bennet by admiring Mrs. Phillip’s manners and politeness. Relating to Mrs. Bennet how Mrs. Phillips had offered him sexual favours along with his cup of tea (citing Mr. Phillips as frightfully dull). But that Mr. Collins was so currently satiated and anticipatory at the prospect of tonight’s proceedings with Mrs. Bennet’s veritable harem that he had respectfully declined Mrs. Phillips’s generosity. He protested that, except Lady Catherine and her daughter, he had never seen a woman with such an outward propensity towards sadomasochism. For she had not only fondled his nut sac assertively, yet taking care to administer the aggression in a manner spiked with more pleasure than pain. She had even pointy included him in her invitation for the next evening, although he was utterly unknown to her before this day. Something he supposed, might be attributed to his connection with them, but yet he had never met with so much attention in the whole course of his life.

          


	16. Chapter 16

As no objection was made to the young people’s engagement with their aunt, and all Mr. Collin’s scruples of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for a single evening during his visit were most steadily resisted. The coach conveyed him and his five cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton. The girls had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered the drawing room, that Mr. Wickham had accepted their uncle’s invitation, and was then in the house.

         When this information was given, and they had all taken their seats, Mr. Collins was at leisure to look around him and admire.  He was so struck with the size and furniture of the apartment, that he declared he might almost have supposed himself in the small summer breakfast parlour at Rosings. A comparison that did not at first convey much gratification; but when Mrs. Phillips understood from him what Rosings was, and who was its proprietor. When she had listened to the description of only one of Lady Catherine’s ‘discipline chambers’ and found that the torture rack alone had cost eight hundred pounds, she felt all the force of the compliment, and would hardly have resented a comparison with the concubine’s room.

         In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her mansion, with occasional digressions in praise not only of the frequency of their coupling therein but also with forcefulness of their simultaneous climaxes. Both at the mansion and in his own humble abode, he was happily employed until the gentleman joined them; and he found in Mrs. Phillips a very attentive listener. Whose opinion of his consequence increased with what she heard, and who was resolving to retail it all among her neighbours as soon as soon as she could. To the girls, who could not listen to their cousin, and who had nothing to do but wish for an instrument other than his, and examine their own indifferent imitations of china on the mantelpiece, the interval of waiting appeared very long. It was over at last, however. The gentleman did approach, and when Mr. Wickham walked into the room, Elizabeth felt that she had neither been seeing him before, nor thinking of him since, with the smallest degree of unreasonable admiration. The officers of the – shire were in general a very creditable, gentlemanlike set, with long limbs and obvious masculine vigour, and the best of them were of the present party. Mr. Wickham was as far beyond them all in person, countenance, air, size, prowess and walk, as they were superior to the broad-faced, stuff uncle Phillips, breathing port wine, who followed them into the room.

         Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was turned. Every one of them unbuttoned at least the top two buttons of their blouses, plumping and preening themselves for his amusement, and Elizabeth was the happy woman by whom he finally seated himself. The agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, made her feel the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the skill of the speaker. She was wickedly turned on by him, and in fact all the women, finding themselves in the company of such obviously virile, found their intimate womanly parts blossom and moisten with interest.

         With such rivals for the notice of the fair as Mr. Wickham and the officers, Mr. Collins seemed to sink into insignificance. To the young ladies certainly he was nothing, but he had still at intervals a kind listener in Mrs. Phillips, who was most intrigued by his description of Lady Catherine’s demand of him at playtime, and was by her watchfulness, most abundantly supplied with coffee and a glimpse of her muffin. When the card- tables were placed, he had the opportunity of inserting two therein, by sitting down whist.

         “I know little of the game at present,” said he,” but I shall be glad to improve myself, for in my situation in life –” Mrs. Phillips was very glad for his compliance, but could not wait for his reason, grinding gently against his hand, as his knuckles coaxed a wondrous friction.

         Mr. Wickham did not play at whist, and with the ready delight was he received at the other table between Elizabeth and Lydia. At first there seemed danger of Lydia engrossing him entirely, for she was already half naked and was now required to remove yet another item of clothing. Which she took little effort in doing since her blouse was already entirely open and with nothing underneath. Her breasts bounced with her exuberant laughter; but being likewise extremely fond of strip poker. She soon grew too much interested in the game in making bets and exclaiming after the removal of one garment or another to have attentions for anyone in particular. Allow for the common demands of the game, Mr. Wickham was therefore at leisure to talk to Elizabeth. She was very willing to hear him, though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told – the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared not even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was unexpectedly relieved. Mr. Wickham began the subject himself. He inquired how far Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in a hesitating manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there.

         “About a month,” said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling to let the subject drop, added, “He is a man of very large member, as well as very large property in Derbyshire, I understand.”

         “Yes,” replied Mr. Wickham; “his cock is to die for – I’ve seen it with my own eyes, and his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten million per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on either of those heads than myself, for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy.”

         Elizabeth could not but look surprised.

         “You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after seeing, as probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?”

         “As much as I ever wish to be,” cried Elizabeth very warmly. “I Have spent four days in the same house with him, watched him ejaculate at the sight of my very own intimates, and I think him very very disagreeable.”

         “I have no right to give my opinion,” said Wickham, “as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for me to be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish – and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly anywhere else.”

         “Upon my word, I say no more here than I might say in any house in the neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is impressed by his considerable length and wealth, to be sure, but disgusted by his pride. You will not find him more favourably spoken of by anyone.”

         “I cannot pretend to be sorry,” said Wickham, after a short interruption, “that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond their deserts; but with him I believe it does not often happen. The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by the size of his enormous manhood, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen.”

         “I should take him, even on my slight acquaintance, massive erection or not, to be an ill-tempered man.” Wickham only shook his head.

         “I wonder,” said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, “if you would feel quite so intolerant of his temper if you were to find yourself on the receiving end of his… gifts. I also wonder whether he is likely to be in this country much longer.”

         “I do not at all know. That he is indeed will-endowed does not necessarily attest to his willingness to please in that regard. Size does not always equate to skill, or so I have heard; and I have heard nothing of his going away when I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the – shire will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.”

         “Oh! no – it is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. I would be most glad to receive him, at his whim, whenever and in whatever capacity he would deign to use me and use me most forcefully. Yet he is most stingy when it comes to doling out the kind of pleasure that can only be bestowed by length and thickness of his magnitude. We are not on the friendliest of terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him – and I only wish I were speaking literally here – but I have no reason for avoiding him. But what I might proclaim before all the world, a sense of very great ill usage. All that prime beef, and for what? He does not impart his substantial capabilities for bequeathing the pleasure of the flesh nearly so often as he should, in my humble opinion; and most painful regret at his being what he is. His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had. I can never be in company with any Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and everything. If he would just deliver himself upon my pleadings, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father. Who was much more friendly and accommodating.”

         Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and listened with all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented further inquiry.

         Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, the neighbourhood, society, the women, the men. His sexual preferences for both and how his taste were defined not only by his mood but also but also by the specimen on offer. Appearing highly pleased with all that he had yet seen, and speaking of the latter with gentle but very intelligible gallantry.

         “It was the prospect of constant society, and good society,” he added, “which was my chief inducement to enter the – shire. I knew it to be a most respectable, progressive, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny tempted me further with his enticement and his account of their present quarters. How everyone sleeps in the bluff, and the very great attentions excellent acquaintances Meryton had procured them. Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear solitude. I must have employment and society, and regular intercourse of any available variety. Buggery has long been a way of life for me, and I have come to rely on it. A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible, and agreeable, in at least that one regard. The church ought to have been my profession – I was bought up for the church, and although there is buggery aplenty in that arena also, it was not to be. I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now.”

         “Indeed!”

         “Yes –the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather and lover. Therefore, he was excessively attached to me, in more ways than one. I cannot do justice to his kindness, nor his consistency. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was give elsewhere.”

         “Good heaven!” cried Elizabeth; “but how could that be? How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress?”

         “There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it – or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation. To assert that I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, lustfulness, debauchery, imprudence – in short for fucking his father. Certain it is, that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I was an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man. And no less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, a high pain threshold, an inherent willingness to please my fellow man, and I may have spoken my opinion of him and to him, in all his glory, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. He is regrettable not bisexually inclined, as much as I have attempted to persuade him otherwise. But the fact is, that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me.”

         “This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”

         “Some time or other he will be – but it shall not be me. Till I can forget his father, can never defy or expose him. As much as I would like to, in private and with all the willingness that is my nature.”

         Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings, and thought him handsomer than ever as he expressed them. Despite her prudent nature, she felt compelled to place her hands in his lap in a gentle gesture of condolence. She found him to be half-cocked, in outrage or due instead to his tender memories, she did not know.

         “But what,” said she, after a light caress, “can have been his motive? What can have induced him to behave so cruelly?”

         “A thorough, determined dislike of me – dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the dear late Mr. Darcy loved me less, his son might have borne with me better. But his father ‘s uncommon attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood – the sort of preference which was given me.”

         “I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this – though I have never liked him. I admit I admired his body – who could not feast their eyes anything but lovingly on the splendidness of that considerable appendage? I had not though so very ill of him, distracted as I was. I had supposed him to be despising his fellow creatures in general as he paid such careful attention to his own needs, but did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity at this.”

         After a few minutes’ reflection, as she absent-mindedly fingered the hardening outline of his cock through his breeches in a comforting bid to ease his distress, however, she continued.

         “I do remember his boasting one day, at Netherfield, of the implacability of his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper. Of his declaration that he loses all interest when one begs him for favour. His disposition must be dreadful.”

         “I can attest that the declaration is entirely true, having done so on more than one occasion, with decidedly, disappointing results. I will not trust myself on the subject,” replied Wickham; “I can hardly be just to him.”

         Elizabeth was again deep in thought, and after a time exclaimed, “To treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the lover, the favourite of his father!” She could have added, “A young man, too, like you, whose very countenance may vouch for your being amiable” – but she contented herself with, “and one, too, who had probably been his companion since childhood, connected together, as I think you said, in the closest manner!”

         “We were born in the same parish, fondled by the same pastors, in the same park; the greatest part of our youth was passed together. Inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, the same young girls, objects of the same parental care. My father began life in the profession which your uncle, Mr. Phillips, appears to do so much credit to – but he gave up everything to be of use to the care of the Pemberley property, and the late Mr. Darcy’s wife. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Darcy often acknowledged himself to be under the greatest obligations to my father’s active sexual superintendence, and when, immediately before my father’s death. Mr. Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me, I am convinced that he felt it to be as much of debt of gratitude to him, as of his affection to myself, and his satisfaction at entitling himself to my body at any and every available juncture.”

         “How strange!” cried Elizabeth. “How abominable! I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you! If from no better motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest – for dishonesty I must call it.”

         “It is wonderful,” replied Wickham, “for almost all his actions may be traced to pride; and pride had often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than with any other feeling. But we are none of us consistent, and in his behaviour to me there were stronger have even than pride.”

         “Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?”

         “Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his body freely – at least during his adolescence and young adulthood. When, for a time, he was delightedly reveling in the discovery of his own superior scale and capability, to give his money somewhat less freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride, and filial pride – for he is very proud of what his father was, save his one indecent obsession: me – have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate form the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also brotherly pride, which with some brotherly affection, make him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister, and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers.”

         “What sort of girl is Miss Darcy?”

He shook his head. “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too much like her brother – very, very proud. As a child she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her titillation and amusement. She does, I admit, have the body of an angel, lips that could bring a man to tears, and pert breast that inspire an immediate woody. But she is nothing to me now, at her own insistence. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen, and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since her father’s death, her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her education.”

         After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Elizabeth could not help reverting once again to a light stroking of his – in the wake of discussions about Mr. Darcy – much less formidable manhood. After all, she had been brought up by her diligent mother to attend to man’s angst in such an attentive manner; and she could not help but return to the first subject, saying:

         “I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley! How can Mr. Bingley, who seems good humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you know Mr. Bingley?”

         “Not at all, although I would not kick him out of my bed if he chose to enter it.”

         “He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr. Darcy is.”

         “Probably not; but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversable companion if he think it worth his while. Among those who are all his equals in consequence, he is a very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride never deserts him; but with the rich he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, not at all shy about exposing himself, and perhaps agreeable – allowing something for fortune and figure.”

         The whist party soon afterwards breaking up, the other players disengaged and dressed, and gathered round the table. Mr. Collins took station between his cousin Elizabeth and Mrs. Phillips. The usual inquires as to this success was made by the latter. It had not been very great; he had lost every point, and was rather amused by his own losing streak, especially seated as he had been to a plump seventeen-year-old minister’s daughter. Who had been afflicted by the same run of bad deals and was now laughingly cleaning his tepid emissions from the voluptuous flesh of her oversized breasts with a handkerchief. But when Mrs. Phillips began to express her concern thereupon, he assured her with much earnest gravity that it was not of the least importance. He considered the money as a mere trifle, and begged that she would not make herself uneasy.

         “I know very well, madam,” said he, “that when persons sit down to a card-table to play strip poker in such fine company, they must take their chances of losing not only their money but some of their seed as well.  Happily I am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings any object. As for the seed, thee is plenty more where that came from. In fact, I would have paid more for the pleasure of rubbing my cock between the amble bosoms of the delightfully fleshy if slightly vague Miss Varaday. There are undoubtedly many who could not say the same, but thanks to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding little matters.”

         Mr. Wickham’ attention was caught; and after observing not only Miss Faraday’s bosoms but also Mr. Collins for a few moments. He asked Elizabeth in a low voice whether her relation was very intimately acquainted with the family of de Bourg.

         “Far more intimately than one could ever hope for. Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” she relied, “has lately given him a living, as well as pleasure uncounted, which he unceasingly rambles on about. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first introduced to her notice, but he certainly has not known her long. What he has known of her, however, has made quite an impression.”

         “You know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy were sister; consequently, she is aunt to the present Mr. Darcy.”

         “No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine’s connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before yesterday.”

         “Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, and it is believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates.”

         The information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought of poor Miss Bingley. Vain indeed must be all her attentions, vain and useless her affection for his sister and her praise of himself, if he were already self-destined for a budding dominatrix of some repute.

         “Mr. Collins,” said she, “speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her daughter; but form some particulars that he has related of her ladyship, I suspected his gratitude misleads him, and that in spite of her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman.”

         “I believe her to be both in a great degree,” replied Wickham; “I have not seen her for many years, but I very well remember that I never liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent. She used to carry a large wooden spoon in her skirt pocket and beat us for the mist minor infraction whenever we were in her company. Not that minded that terribly, and she certainly appeared to enjoy it. She has the reputation for being remarkably sensible and clever; but I rather believe she derives part of her abilities from her rank and fortune, part from her authoritative manner, part from the impressive arsenal of leather and bondage gear in her possession, and the rest from the pride for her nephew, who choose that everyone connected with him should have an understanding of the first class.”

         Elizabeth allowed that he had given a very rational account of it, and they continued talking together, with mutual satisfaction till supper put an end to the cards, and gave the rest of the ladies their share of Mr. Wickham attentions. There could be no conversation in the noise of Mrs. Phillips’s supper party, but his manners recommended him to everybody. Whatever he said was said well; and whatever he did, done gracefully. His hard-on was admired, and relieved by the combined attentions of Miss Faraday’s cleavage, Mrs. Phillips’s fledgling crop collection and Lydia’s ever-eager fellatio skills. Elizabeth went away with her head full of him. She could think of nothing but of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her, all the way home; but there was no time for her even to mention his name as they went, for neither Lydia nor Mr. Collins were once silent. Lydia talked incessantly of the poker game, and of coming dangerously close to penetration as she sat on a certain Mr. Smith’s lap, the mention of which was enough to start the evening’s proceedings somewhat early. And as Collins intermittently commented on the civility of Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, protested that he did not in the least regard his losses at whist. He declared that Kitty was to be this evening’s object of his feasting attentions while Lydia was to practice once again the exacting requirements of his careful tutelage. Elizabeth couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that.  


	17. Chapter 17

Elizabeth related to Jane the next day what had passed between Mr. Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern. She knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr. Bingley’s regard, yet, it was not in her nature to question the veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Wickham. The possibility of him having endured such unkindness, was enough to interest all her tender feelings and she wished at that very moment she could comfort him in any number of ways. There was nothing remained to be done for his suffering, other than to think well of him, to admire and lavish their womanly attention to his body at every opportunity. To defend the conduct of each, and throw into the account of accident or mistake whatever could not be otherwise explained.

         “They have both,” said she, “been deceived, I say, in some way or another, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either side.”

         “Very true, indeed; and now, my dear Jane, what have you got to say on behalf of the people who have probable been concerned in the business? Do clear them too, or we shall be obligated to think ill of somebody.”

         “Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father’s favourite in such a manner. One whom his father had promised to debase on a daily basis and thereby, possibly out of fondness, attraction, guilt, or more likely a combination thereof, to provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his character, could be capable of overlooking debauchery of this variety when it is clearly born out of the simple desire of an older man for a much younger boy toy. Hardly out of the ordinary nor such a crime that cannot be overlooked from to time to time. Can his most intimate friends be so excessively deceived in him? Oh! No.”

         “I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley’s being imposed on, than that Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. That he was rogered by the elder Mr. Darcy is clear enough; the he enjoyed it, even more so. And what of it? If it be not so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks. He had the look of a man who could take that kind of punishment, and put it to god use.”

         “It is difficult indeed – it is distressing. One does not know what to think.”

         But Jane could think with certainly on only one point – that Mr. Bingley, if he had been imposed on, would have much to suffer when the affair became public.

         The two young ladies were summoned from the shrubbery, where this conversation passed. Taking care not to overly notice a pair of fob-haired dandies partaking of a rather more intimate conversation behind the very next shrub, by the arrival of the very persons of whom they had been speaking. Mr. Bingley and his sisters came to give their personal invitation for the long-expected orgy at Netherfield, which was fixed for the following Tuesday. The two ladies were delighted to see their dear friend Jane again, called it an age since they had met, and repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself since their separation. The rest of the family they paid little attention; avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, saying not much to Elizabeth, and nothing at all to the others. They were soon gone again, rising from their seats with an activity which took their brother by surprise, and hurrying off as if eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet’s mouth.

         The prospect of the Netherfield orgy was extremely agreeably to every female of the family. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider it as given in compliment to her eldest daughter, and was particularly flattered by receiving the invitation from Mr. Bingley himself, instead of a ceremonious card. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening in the society of her two friends, and the attentions of her brother, hoping to be on the receiving end of his talented tongue once again. Elizabeth thought with pleasure of copping another feel of Mr. Wickham’s rigid and rather overeager shaft, and of seeing a confirmation of everything Mr. Darcy’s look and behaviour. The happiness anticipated by Catherine and Lydia depended less on any single event, or any particular person, for though they each, like Elizabeth, meant to fondle for half the evening Mr. Wickham. But unlike Elizabeth, he was by no means the only partner who could satisfy them, and an orgy was, at any rate, an orgy. And even Mary could assure her family that she had no disinclination for, it despite the admission that she preferred rather more hearty pleasures, and those administered by somewhat more brutal means.

         “While I can have my midnight hours to myself,” said she, “it is enough – I think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in tamer evening engagements. Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for everybody, no matter how trifling and vanilla they may be. “

         Elizabeth’s spirits were so high on this occasion, that though she did not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Collins. She could not help asking him whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley’s invitation, and if he did, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening’ s amusement. She was rather surprised to find that he entertained no scruple whatever on that head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke from the Archbishop, or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing to partake in orgasmic pursuits, hoping, secretly, that his patroness might punish him father ruthlessly upon his return to the parish.

         “I am by no means of the opinion, I assure you,” said he, “that an orgy of this kind, given by a young man of character and admirable friskiness, to respectable, good looking people, can have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to bonking myself, that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of the evening, used to their caresses as I have become; and I take this opportunity of soliciting your, Miss Elizabeth for the first two rubs especially, a preference which I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right cause, and not to any disrespect for her.”

         Elizabeth felt herself completely taken in. She had fully proposed being engaged by Mr. Wickham for those very sessions; and to have Mr. Collins instead! Her liveliness had never been worse timed. There was no help for it however. Mr. Wickham happiness and her own were perforce delayed a little longer, and Mr. Collins’s proposal accepted with as good as grace s she could. She was not the better pleased with his gallantry from the idea it suggested of something more. It now first struck her, that she was selected from among her sisters as worthy of being mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting a form a discipline at Rosings, in the absence of more eligible visitors. The idea soon reached to conviction, as she observed his increasing civilities towards herself, even going so far as to take his cock out to show her the hardened, purpling shade of his conviction, and heard his frequent attempt at a compliment on her wit and vivacity; and though more astonished than gratified herself by this effect of her charms, it was not long before her mother gave her to understanding that the probability of their marriage was extremely agreeable to _her._ Elizabeth, however, did not choose to take the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be  the consequence of any reply. Mr. Collins might never make the offer, and till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him.

         If there had not been a Netherfield orgy to prepare for and talk of, the younger Miss Bennets would have been in a very pitiable state at this time, for far from the day of the orgy, there was such a succession of rain as prevented their walking to Meryton once. No aunt, on officers, no news could be sought after.  Even might have found some trial of her patience in weather which totally suspended the improvement of her acquaintance with Mr. Wickham; and nothing less than a blow job on Tuesday, could have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday endurable to Kitty and Lydia.  

 


	18. Chapter 18

Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield, and looked in vain for Mr. Wickham among the cluster of red coats there assembled and in varying states of undress. As was the dictate of the host, a doubt of his being present had never occurred to her. The certainty of meeting him had not been checked by any of those recollections that might not unreasonably have alarmed her. She had dressed – and then undressed – with more than usual care, and prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all that remained unsubdued of his loins, trusting that it was not more than might be won in the course of an evening. But in an instant arose the dreadful suspicion that his being purposely omitted for Mr. Darcy’s pleasure in the Bingleys’ invitation to the officers; and though this was not exactly the case, the absolute fact of his absence was pronounced by his friend Denny, to whose bulge Lydia eagerly applied the gentle exploration of her wily fingers as she assisted him with his undress, having already undressed herself as soon as she had entered the room, and who told them that Wickham had been obliged to go to town on business the day before, and was not yet returned; adding with a significant smile, in response not only to his account but also to a particularly pleasing pressure administered by Lydia’s thumb, “I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now, if he had not wanted to avoid a certain gentleman here.”

         This part of his intelligence, though unheard by Lydia, was caught by Elizabeth, and, as it assured her that Darcy was not less answerable for Wickham’s absence than if her first surmise had been just, every feeling of displeasure against the former was so sharpened by immediate disappointment, that she could hardly reply with tolerable civility to the polite inquiries which he directly afterward approach to make. Attendance, cunnilingual proficiency, forbearance, physical endowment, patience with Darcy, was injury to Wickham. She was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, and turned away with a degree of ill-humour which she could not wholly surmount even in speaking to Mr. Bingley, whose blind partiality provoked her.

         But Elizabeth was not formed for ill humour; and though every prospect of her own was destroyed for the evening, it could not dwell long on her spirits; and having told all her grief to Charlotte Lucas, who, she had not seen for a week, she was soon able to make a voluntary transition to the sexual oddities of her cousin, and to point him out to her particular notice. The first two lap dances, however, bought a return distress; they were rubs of mortification. Mr. Collins, awkward, solemn and only semi-erect, apologising instead of engaging, and often moving wrong without being aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery which a disagreeable partner for a couple of lap gyrations can give. The moment of her release from him was ecstasy; she nearly climaxed just from the relief.

         She next brushed up against an officer, and the refreshment of talking of Wickham, and of hearing that he was universally liked; and not just liked but _liked_ , winked the officer. When those sessions were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas, and was in conversation with her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy who took her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without knowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again immediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of mind; charlotte tried to console her:

         “I dare say you will find him very agreeable.”

         “Heaven forbid! That would be the greatest misfortune off all! To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil.”

         When the foreplay recommenced, however, and Darcy approached, Charlotte could not help cautioning her in a whisper, not to be a simpleton, and allow her fancy for Wickham to make her appear unpleasant in the eyes of a man ten times his consequence and at least one and a half times his length. Elizabeth made no answer, and took her place in the set, amazed at the dignity to which she was arrived in being allowed to lay opposite Mr. Darcy, and reading in her neighbours’ looks, their equal amazement in beholding it. They lay and fondled for some time without speaking a word; and she began to imagine that their silence was to last through the two sessions, and at first was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it would be the greater punishment to her partner to oblige him to talk, made some slight observation on the placement of his hands, which were oh-so – delicately pinching at her nipples, causing a warmth to wash throughout her body, form her breast to her intimate depths. He replied, and was again silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time with: “- It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the touch of your fingers, and you ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, the plushness of the cushions, or the number of threesomes.”

         He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said.

         “Very well. That reply will do fro the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private sexual play is much pleasanter than public. But now we may be silent.”

         “Do you talk by rule, then, while you are being fondled, and fondling?” He was suckling her nipples now, one, then the other, stoking the radiating warmth of her quim, where she began to feel a honeyed moistness and a tender heat.

         “Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged, as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.”

         “Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?” He lightly licked the skin of her stomach causing her to squirm wantonly.

         “Both,” replied Elizabeth archly, gasping lightly as his hands wandered lower down her body, teasing her and adjusting her legs just so; he really was especially skilled in the art of foreplay, she could not help but reflect; “for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unusually reserved in the sexual favours we will bestow, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the éclat of a proverb.”

         “This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure,” said he. “How near it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say. You think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly.”

         “I must not decide on my own performance.”

         He made no answer, and they were again silent till he had proceeded down the length of her body, the light kisses of his lips touching the skin of her stomach, her hips; he pushed her legs further apart, just so, to kiss her sensitive inner thighs, yet avoiding her most intimate places, as though intentionally denying her, offering her nothing save an awakening, desiring awareness, of her own skin, of him and a yet-defined sweet-ache she found almost alarming in its blossoming intensity, when he asked her if she and her sisters did not very often walk to Meryton. She answered in the affirmative, and, unable to resist the temptation, added, “When you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance.”

         The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of hauteur overspread his features and the grasp of his hands became rougher, but he said not a word, and Elizabeth, though blaming herself for her own weakness, could not go on. At length Darcy spoke, and in a constrained manner said, “Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends – whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain.”

         “He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” replied Elizabeth with emphasis, “and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life.”

         Darcy made no answer, and seemed serious of changing of subject. At that moment, Sir William Lucas appeared close to them, meaning to pass through the set to the other side of the room; but on perceiving Mr. Darcy, he stopped with a bow of superior courtesy to compliment him on his technique and his partner.

         “I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear sir. Such very skilled – and effective – methods of subtle arousal are not often seen. It is evident by the lady’s flush, and dewy gleam, that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Eliza (glancing at a particularly gymnastic embrace) shall take place. What congratulations will then flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy: - but let me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me.”

         The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy; but Sir William’s allusion to his friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and he eyes were directed with a very serious expression towards Bingley and Jane, who were on the very verge of full-on copulation; at that very moment. As the tip of Bingley’s shaft rubbed against the outer petals of Jane’s sex, Bingleys manhood dramatically erupted in a series of milky jetting pulses onto the skin of Jane’s stomach.   Recovering himself, however, shortly, Darcy turned to his partner and said, ‘Sir William’s interruption has made me forget what we were talking of”

         “I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have interrupted two people in the room who had less to say for themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without success, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine. “

         “What think you of books?” said he, smiling.

“Books – oh! No. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings.”

         “I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinion.”

         “No – I cannot talk of books at an orgy; my head is always full of something else, like how incredibly hard, and so very large, your manhood is at present.” She could not help but touch him hesitantly, fascinated.

         “The present always occupies you in such scenes – does it?” said he, with a look of doubt.

         “Yes, always,” she replied, without knowing what she said, for her thoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soon afterwards appeared by her suddenly exclaiming, “I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are cautious, I suppose, as to its being created.”

         “I am,” said he, with a firm voice; his concern was that he might groan loudly at the gentle clasp of her fingers sliding along his shaft and producing an astonishingly momentous sensation with that mere, light touch.

         “And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”

         “I hope not”

         His fingers touched her sensitive petals so very lightly, yet he almost instantly removed the touch, and the combined effect of both the offer and its erstwhile confiscation caused her to involuntarily gasp and writhe with desperation. She wanted more of this transcendent offering, such was the inspiration of it, yet she had avowed to never beg him on light of his earlier declarations; the humid strikes of his breath on her most intimate flesh were very nearly causing her to swoon with delight. “It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first …oh,” she moaned, despite a concerted effort not to.

         “May I ask to what these questions tend?” Her thumb swirled across the broad end of his manhood, eliciting a slick of moisture; he knew for certain he had ever been more aroused in his life.

         “Merely to the illustration of your character,” said she, endeavouring to shake off her gravity. “I am trying to make it out.”

         “And what is your success?”

         She shook her head. “I do not get get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”

         “I can readily believe,” answered he gravely, struggling to maintain his composure under her careful, delicate fingers, “that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either. Sketch my manhood and its performance, by  all means, but not my character.”

         “Your manhood is without a doubt one of – nay, the – most impressive I have yet to lay my eyes or my hands on, that mush is true. And, while I am tempted to rub my body against it until you spill yourself in ecstasy, your character is confusingly complex. And if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity.”

         “I would by no means suspend any pleasure of your,” he coldly replied, incensed by the mention of her body bringing him to his heights yet even as she moved away from him. She said no more, and they parted in silence; and on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree, for in Darcy’s breast and in his raging boner, there was a tolerable powerful feeling towards her, which soon procured her pardon, and directed all hiss anger against another.

         They had not long separated, when Miss Bingley came towards her, and with an expression of civil disdain accosted her:

         “So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with George Wickham! Your sister has been talking to me about him, and asking me a thousand questions; and I find that the young man quite forgot to tell you, among his other communication, that he was the son of old Wickham, the late Mr. Darcy’s steward. Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to give implicit confidence to all his assertions; for as to Mr. Darcy’s using him ill, it is perfectly false; for, on the contrary, he has always been remarkably kind to him, though George Wickham has treated Mr. Darcy in a most infamous manner. I do not know the particulars, but I know very well that Mr. Darcy is not in the least to blame, that he cannot bear to hear George Wickham mention, that he is tired of Wickham’s inappropriate advances, and that though my brother thought that he could not well avoid including him in his invitation to the officers, he was excessively glad to find himself out of the way. His coming into the country at all is a most insolent ting, indeed, and I wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you, Miss Eliza, for this discovery of your favourite’s guilt; but really, considering his descent, one could not expect much better.”

         “His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the same,” said Elizabeth angrily; “for I have heard you accuse him of nothing worse than of the being son of Mr. Darcy steward, and of that, I can assure you, he informed me himself.”

         “I beg your pardon,” replied Miss Bingley, turning away with a sneer. “Excuse my interference – it was kindly meant.”

         “Insolent girl!” said Elizabeth to herself. “You are much mistaken if you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack as this. I see nothing in it but your own willful ignorance and the malice of Mr. Darcy.” She then sought her eldest sister, who has undertaken to make inquires on the same subject of Bingley. Jane met her with a smile of such sweet complacency, a glow of such happy expression, as sufficiently marked how well she was satisfied with the occurrences of the evening. Bingleys’s enthusiasms had brought Jane not one but two exquisite releases, bringing her combined tally to seven, and her nether regions were still secretly warm and supple in the aftermath of her double whammy. Elizabeth instantly read her feelings, and at that moment solicitude for Wickham, resentment against his enemies, and everything else, gave way before the hope of Jane’s being in the fairest way for happiness.

         “I want to know,” said she, with countenance no less smiling than her sister’s, “what you have learnt about Mr. Wickham. But perhaps you have been too pleasantly engaged t think of nay third person; in which case you may be sure of my pardon.”

         “No,” relied Jane, “I have not forgotten him; but I have nothing satisfactory to tell you. Mr. Bingley does not know the whole of his history, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which have principally offended Me. Darcy. But he will vouch for the good conduct, the probity, and honour of his friend, and is perfectly convinced that Mr. Wickham has deserved much less attention from Mr. Darcy than he has received; and I am sorry to say by his account as well as his sister’s, Mr. Wickham is by no means a respectable young man. I am afraid he has been very imprudent, and has deserved to lose Mr. Darcy’s regard.”

         “Mr. Bingley does not know Mr. Wickham himself?”

         “No; he never saw him till the other morning at Meryton.”

         “This account then is what he has received from Mr. Darcy. I am satisfied. But what does he say of the living?”

         “He does not exactly recollect the circumstances, though he has heard them from Mr. Darcy more than once, but he believes that it was left to him conditionally only.”

         “I have not a doubt of Mr. Bingley’s sincerity,” said Elizabeth warmly; “but you must excuse my not being convinced by assurances only. Mr. Bingley’s defense of his friends was a very able one, I dare say; but since he is unacquainted with several parts of the story, and has learnt the rest from that friend himself, I shall venture to still think of both gentleman as I did before.”

         She then changed the discourse to one more gratifying to each, and on which there could be no difference of sentiment. Elizabeth listened with delight to the happy, though modest hopes which Jane entertained of Mr. Bingley’s regard, and said all in her power to heighten her confidence in it. She had match his own efforts and brought him not one n=but two emissions, the latter occurring, she reported with delight, simultaneously to her own, without so much as penetration. Om their withdrew to Miss Lucas; to whose inquiry after the pleasantness of her last partner she had scarcely replied, before Mr. Collins came up to them, and told her with great exultation that he had just been so fortunate as to make a most important discovery.

         “I have found out,” said he “by a singular accident, that there is now in the room a near relation of my patroness. I happened to ever hear the gentleman himself mentioning to the young lady who does the honours of the house the names of his cousin Miss de Bourgh, and of her mother Lady Catherine. How wonderfully these sort of things occur! Who would have thought of my meeting with, perhaps, a nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh in this assembly! I am most thankful that the discovery is made in time for me to pay my respects to him, to tell him what a wonderfully thorough dominatrix his aunt is – unparalleled, in my opinion, and I da have some experience with these things – which I am now going to do, and trust he will excuse my not having done it before. My total ignorance of the connection must plead my apology.”

         “You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy!”

         “Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it earlier. I believe him to be Lady Catherine’s nephew. It will be in my power to assure him that her ladyship was quite well yesterday se’ennight. In rare form indeed.”

         Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme, assuring him that Mr. Darcy would consider his addressing him without introduction as an impertinent freedom, rather than a compliment to his aunt; and it was not in the least necessary there should be any notice on either side; and that if it were, it must belong to Mr. Darcy, the superior in consequence, to begin the acquaintance. Mr. Collins listened to her with determined air of following his own inclination, and, when she ceased speaking replied thus:

         “My dear Miss Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion in the world of your excellent judgement in all matters within the scope of your understanding, and you know how fond I am of particular parts of your anatomy.  But permit me to say, that there must be a wide difference between the established forms of ceremony amongst the laity, and those which regulate the clergy. Forgive me leave to observe that I consider the clerical office as equal in point of dignity with the highest rank in the kingdom – provided that a proper humility of behaviour is at the same time maintain. You must therefore allow me to follow the dictates of my conscience on this occasion, which lead me to perform what I look on as a point of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to profit by your advice, which on every other subject shall be my constant guide, though in the case before us I consider myself more fitted by education and habitual study to decide on what is right than a young lady like yourself.” And with a low bow he left her to attack Mr. Darcy, whose reception of his advances she eagerly watched, and whose astonishment at being so addresses was very evident. Her cousin prefaced his speech with a solemn bow and though she could not hear a word of it, she felt as if hearing it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the word “apology”, “Hunsford,” “Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” and “dominatrix extraordinaire.” It vexed her to see him expose himself to such a man. Mr. Darcy was eyeing him and his undersized member – especially wonder, and when at last Mr. Collins allowed him time to speak, replied with an air of distant civility. Mr. Collins, however, was not discouraged from speaking again, and Mr. Darcy’s contempt seemed abundantly increasing with the length of his second speech, and at the end of it he only made him a slight bow, and moved another way. Mr. Collins then returned to Elizabeth.

         “I have no reason, I assure,” said he, “to be dissatisfied with my reception. Mr. Darcy seemed much pleased with the attention. He answered me with the utmost civility, and even paid me the compliment of saying that he was o well convinced of Lady Catherine’s discernment as to be certain she could never bestow a favour unworthily. It was really a very handsome though. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him. He possesses that same cutting regard as his aunt although has a decidedly less feverish look in his eye, it must be said. And that cock! Words cannot express the magnificence. O to be blessed on such a scale! Never mind. I can take comfort in the truism: ‘It is not the size of one’s schooner, but the...”

         Elizabeth tuned him out.

         As Elizabeth had no longer any interest of her own to pursue, she turned her attention almost entirely on her sister and Mr. Bingley; Jane was presently and once again perched on Mr. Bingley’s lap, daringly. One errant thrust would see her sister’s marriage all but secured; and the train of agreeable reflections which her observation gave birth to, made her perhaps almost as happy as Jane. She saw her in idea settled in that very house, in all the felicity which a marriage of true affection and sexual compatibility could bestow; and she felt capable, under such circumstances, of endeavouring even to like Bingley’s two sister. Her mother’s thoughts she plainly saw were bent in the same way, and she determined not to venture near her, least she might hear too much. When they sat down to supper, therefore, she considered it a most unlucky perverseness which placed them within one of each other; and deeply was she vexed to find that her mother was talking to that one person (Lady Lucas) freely, openly, and of nothing else but her expectation that Jane would soon be married to Mr. Bingley. It was an animating subject and Mrs. Bennet seemed incapable of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. His being such a charming young man, and so rich, and living but three miles from them, were the first points of self-granulation; that he was able to pleasure Jane so unrelentingly was certainly a wondrous state of affairs; and he, by all means, practically ejaculated whenever she so much as happened to walk by, with perhaps just a gentle encouragement of her tugging grips and the offering of her nipples to his greedy mouth; and then it was such a comfort to think how fond the two sisters were of Jane, and to be certain that they must desire the connection as much as she could do. It was, moreover, such a promising thing for her younger daughter, as Jane’s marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men; and lastly; it was so pleasant at her time of life to be able to consign her single daughters to the care of their sister, that she might not be obliged to go into company more than she liked. It was necessary to make this circumstance a matter of pleasure, because on such occasions it is the etiquette; but no one was less likely than Mrs. Bennet to find comfort in staying home for any period of her life. She concluded with many good wishes that Lady Lucas might soon be equally fortunate, though evidently and triumphantly believing there was no chance of it.

         In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to check the rapidity of her mother’s words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audible whisper; for, to her inexpressible vexation, she could perceive that the chief of it was overheard by Mr. Darcy, who sat opposite of them. Her mother only scolded her for being nonsensical.

         “What id Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing he may not like to hear.”

         “For heaven’s sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can it be for you to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by so doing!”

         Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. Her mother would talk of her views in the same intelligible tone. Elizabeth blushed and blushed again with shame and vexation. She could not help frequently glancing her eye at Mr. Darcy, though every glance convinced  her of what she dreaded; for though he was not always looking at her mother, she was sure that his attention was invariably fixed by her, The expression of his face changed gradually from contempt to a composed and steady gravity.

         At Length however, Mrs. Bennet ha no more to say; and Lady Lucas, who had been long yawning at the repetition of delights which she saw no likelihood of sharing, was left to the comfort of cold ham and chicken. Elizabeth now began to revive. But not long was the interval of tranquility; for, when supper was over, whipping was talked of, and she had the mortification of seeing Mary, after very little entreaty, preparing to oblige the company. By many significant looks and silent entreaties, did she endeavour to prevent such a proof of complaisance, but in vain; Mary would not understand them; such an opportunity of exhibiting was delightful to her, and she strutted to and fro in her Leather ’n’ chains outfit; and selected her sub, a Mr. Edgewick, who was instructed to kneel before her, and she began her game. Elizabeth’s eyes were fixed on her with most painful sensations, and she watched her progress through the first few lashes with an impatience which was very ill rewarded at their close; for Mary, on receiving amongst the thanks of the table after a most agonized groan confirming Mr. Edgewick’s finale, the hint of a that she might be prevailed on to favour them again, after the pause of a half a minute she chose another sub, who was all but tripping in anticipation to take his place at her feet. Mary’s powers were by no means fitted for such a display; her more convincing toys had been left at home and shew was equipped only with a small bullwhip. Elizabeth was in agonies. She looked at Jane; to see how she bore it; but Jane was very composedly playing with Bingley’s foreskin. She looked at his two sisters, and saw them making signs of derision at each other, and at Darcy, who continued, however, imperturbably grave. She looked at her father to entreat his interference, least Mary should be dominating eager, submissive men all night. He took the hint, and when Mary had finished her second whipping, said load, “That will do extremely well, dear. You have delight us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.”

         Mary, though pretending not to hear, was some what disconcerted; and Elizabeth, sorry fro her father’s speech, was afraid her anxiety had done no good. Other of the party were now applied to.

         “If I,” said Mr. Collins, “were so fortunate as to be given a whip, I should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an air; for I consider bondage, and discipline as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do no mean, however, to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time to bondage, for there are certain other things to be attended to. The rector of a parish has much to do. In the first place, he must make such an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial to himself and not offensive to his patron. He must write his own sermons; he must sodomise his own parishioners, and repeatedly so; and the time that remains will not be to much for his parish duties, and the care and improvement of his playroom, which cannot be excused form making as comfortable – and painful – as possible. And I do not think it of light importance that he should have attentive and conciliatory manner towards everybody, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think well of the man who should omit an occasion of testifying his respect towards anybody connected with the family.” And with a bow to Mr. Darcy, he concluded his speech, which had been spoken so load as to be heard by half the room. Many stared – may smiled; but no one looked more amused than Mr. Bennet himself, while his wife seriously commended Mr. Collins for having spoken so sensibly, and observed in a half-whisper to Lady Lucas, that he was a remarkably clever, good kind of young man.

         To Elizabeth it appeared that, had her family made an agreement to expose themselves as much as they could during the evening – which they had made a concerted effort to do – it would have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit or finer success. Happy did she think it for Bingley and her sister that some of the exhibition had escaped his notice, and that his feelings were not of a sort to be much distressed by the folly which he must have witnessed. That his two sisters and Mr. Darcy, however, should have such an opportunity of ridiculing her relations, was bad enough, and she could not determine whether the silent contempt of the gentleman, or the silent smiles of the ladies, were more intolerable.

         The rest of the evening brought her little amusement. She was teased by Mr. Collins, who continued most perseveringly by her side, and though could not prevail on her to sit on his lap while he played with himself, put it out of her power to fondle others. In vain did she entreat him to stand up with somebody else, and offer to introduce him to any young lady in the room. He assured her, that as to engaging in foreplay, he was perfectly indifferent to it. His chief object was by delicate attentions to recommend himself to her and that he should therefore make a point of remaining close to her the whole evening. There was no arguing upon such a project. She owed her greatest relief to her friend Miss Lucas, who often joined them, and good naturedly allowed Mr. Collin’s wandering hands to explore herself.

         She was at least free form the offense Mr. Darcy’s further notice; though often standing within a very short distance of her, he never came near enough to speak. She felt it to be the probable consequence of her allusions to Mr. Wickham, and rejoiced in it.

         The Longbourn party were the last of all the company to depart, and, by a manoeuvre of Mrs. Bennet, had to wait for their carriage a quarter of an hour after everybody else was gone, which gave them time to see how heartily they were wished away be some of the family. Mrs. Hurst and her sister scarcely opened their mouth, except to complain of fatigue, and once when Mr. Hurst offered his manmeat, insisting his wife swallow rather than spit, and were evidently impatient to have to have the house to themselves. They repulsed every attempt of Mrs. Bennet at conversation, and by so doing threw a languor over the whole party, which was very little relieved by the long speeches of Mr. Collins, who was complimenting Mr. Bingley and his sisters on the elegance of their entertainment, and the hospitality and politeness which had marked their behaviour to their guest, including one of the sisters holding his balls while he finally succumbed to pleasuring himself after Elizabeth’s refusals to do so. Darcy said nothing at all. Mr. Bennet, in equal silence, was enjoying the scene. Mr. Bingley and Jane were siting together, she astride him, a little detached from the rest, and talked only to each other as she rubbed her breast against the light pelt of hair on his chest. Elizabeth preserved as steady a silence as either Mrs. Hurst – who indeed could not have spoken if she had wanted to, as her mouth was currently otherwise engaged – or Miss Bingley, who finally released her hold on Mr. Collin’s scrotum; and even Lydia was too much fatigued to utter more than the occasional exclamation of “Lord, know tired I am! I’ve sucked off at least four gentlemen this evening and my jaw is somewhat paining me!” accompanied by a violent yawn, and a slight wince.

         What at length they arose to dress and take leave, Mrs. Bennet was most pressingly civil in her hope of seeing the whole family soon at Longbourn, and addressed herself especially to Bingley, to assure him how happy he would make them by eating a family dinner with them at any time, and partaking in Jane’s pleasure for pudding, so to speak, without the ceremony of a formal invitation. Bingley was all grateful pleasure, and he readily engaged for taking the earliest opportunity of waiting on her, after his return for London, wither he was obliged to go the next day for a short time.

         Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfied, and quitted the house under the delightful persuasion that, allowing for the necessary preparations of settlements, new carriages, and wedding clothes, she should undoubtedly in the course of three or four moths. Of having another daughter married to Mr. Collins, she thought with equal certainty, and with considerable, though not equal, pleasure. Elizabeth was the least dear to her of all her children; and though the man and his rather diminutive (in comparison to some she had seen over the duration of  the evening, at least) erection were quite good enough for her, the worth of each was eclipsed by the splendidly well-endowed Mr. Bingley of Netherfield.


	19. Chapter 19

The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. Mr. Collins made his declaration in form. Having resolved to do it without loss of time, as his leave of absence extended only to the following Saturday, and having no feelings of diffidence to make it distressing to himself even at the moment, he set about in a very orderly manner, with all the observances, which he supposed a regular part of the business. On finding Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth and one of the younger girls together, soon after breakfast, he addressed the mother in these words:

         “May I hope, madam, for you r interest with your fair daughter Elizabeth, when I solicit for the honour of a private audience with her in the course of the morning?”

         Before Elizabeth had anything but a blush of surprise, Mrs. Bennet answered instantly “Oh dear! – yes – certainly. I am sure Lizzy will be very happy – I an sure she can have no objections to whatever sleazy ministrations you have in mind for her. Come, Kitty, I want you upstairs. You haven’t partaken in a waxing in weeks – we simply must attend to the manner.” And, gathering her work together, she was hastening away, when Elizabeth called out:

         “Dear Madam, do no go. I beg you will not go. I prefer not to be alone with that lecherous prick. Mr. Collins must excuse me. He can have nothing to say to me that anybody need not hear. I am going away myself.”

         “No, no, nonsense, Lizzy. I desire you to stay where you are and allow Mr. Collins to avail his seedy intentions on your young, flushed body.” And upon Elizabeth’s seeming really, with vexed and embarrassed looks, about your staying and putting up with Mr. Collin’s fancy. Just because you remain the least sluttish of girls does not mean you should jeopardies the possibility for securing our inheritance. You must endeavour to overcome your reserve for the sake of my future financial comfort. Lord knows it’ll not take but a few minutes, and it’s nothing you haven’t you haven’t already been forced to endure, and a number of times.”

          Elizabeth would not oppose such an injunction – and a moment’s consideration making her also sensible that it would be wisest to get it over as soon and as quietly as possible, she sat down again and tried to conceal, by incessant employment the feelings which were divided between distress and diversion. Mrs. Bennet and kitty walked off, and as soon as they were gone, Mr. Collins began.

         “Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that your modesty, so far from doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections – no take your hands from covering your breasts. You’ve such pert nipples. You would have been less amiable in my eyes had there not been this little unwillingness; your coquettishness only turns me on all the more; but allow me to assure you, that I have your respected mother’s permission for this address. She has sanctioned any and all of my desires. Open your legs just slightly – dear Elizabeth! You hardly indulge me at all! I’ll just adjust you myself, there, that’s marginally better. You can hardly doubt the purport of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead to dissemble; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as soon as I entered the house, my hard-on sprang to life, and I singled you out as the companion of my bed – although I couldn’t resist several deserved and understandably tempting samplings of you luscious sister – and my future life. Nut before I run away with my feelings on this subject, perhaps it would be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying – and, moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the design of selecting a wife, as I certainly did.”

         The idea of Mr. Collins, with all his solemn composure and eager though impish endowment, being run away with his feelings, made Elizabeth so near laughing, that she could not use the short pause he allowed in any attempt to stop him further, and he continued:

         “My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it’s a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example of matrimony in his parish. Secondly that I am convinced that it will add very greatly to my happiness. And thirdly – which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked too!) on this subject. It was but the very Saturday night before I left Hunsford – between our forays at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson was arranging Miss de Bourgh’s strap-on, that she said. ‘Mr. Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry, to give a mask of respectability to your thoroughly debauched night-time rituals. Choose properly, choose a gentlewomen for my sake; we hardly need another dominatrix in the parish; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person. Not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a long way, let her be fresh and unused. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her, and have my wicked way with her.’ Allow me, by the way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond anything I can describe; she has the ability to bestow immeasurably powerful climaxes, even to the inexperienced through her arsenal of bisexual weaponry. Your wit and vivacity, I think, must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite. You will undoubtedly be speechless when you see some of the devices she employs. And when you feel the slice of the whip – nay, I must not overexcite myself my musing upon such delights at the present time. We have other matters to discuss. Where was I? Oh, yes: Thus much for my general intention in favour of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views were directed towards Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I can assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your aging father who may not live much longer, I could not satisfy myself without resolving to choose a wife from among his juicy daughters. That the loss to them might be as little as possible, when the melancholy event takes place – which, however, as I have already said, may no be for several years; although between you and me his heart will probably give out sooner rather later if he continues to avail himself to the young girls of Meryton’s whorehouse at his current frequency – at least his death will be a quick one, and a pleasurable one, if you don’t mind me saying. Anyhow, this has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affection, not to mention my erection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well aware that it could not be complied with; and that one hundred thousand pounds in the four per cents, which will not be yours till after your mother’s decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent; and you may assure yourself that no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married. Other things will be passing my lips, however, like these cherry-red nipples, I cannot resist but help myself to a small taste. Mm.”

         It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now. Elizabeth pulled back.

         “You are too hasty, sir,” she cried. “You forget that I have made no answer. Let me do it without further loss of time. Accept my thanks for the compliment you are paying me. I very sensible of the honour of your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than to decline them.”

         “I am not now to learn,” replied Mr. Collins, with a gratuitous grope, “that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second, or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to altar ere long.”

         “Upon my word, sir,” cried Elizabeth, attempting to remove his hands from her person, “your hope is a rather extraordinary one after my declaration. I so assure you that I am not one of those young ladies (if such young ladies there are) who are so daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make me happy, not with that miniscule wiener, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who could make you so. Nay, were your friend Lady Catherine to know me, I am persuaded she would find me in every respect ill qualified for the situation. I am neither bisexual nor particularly inclined towards the more painful routes to one’s own pleasures.”

         “Were it certain that Lady Catherine would think so,” said Mr. Collins very gravely. “But I cannot imagine that her ladyship would at all disapprove of you; in fact she would no doubt tie you up whether you wanted her to or not. And you may be certain when I have the honour of seeing again, I shall speak in the very highest terms of your modesty, fuckability, economy, virginity and other amiable qualification.”

         “Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary. You must give me leave to judge for myself, and pay me the compliment of believing what I say. I wish you very happy and very rich, and by refusing to your hand and cock, do all in my power to prevent your being otherwise. In making me the offer, you must have satisfied the delicacy of your feelings with regard to my family, and may take possession of Longbourn estate whenever it fails, without any self-reproach. I would prefer to refuse your dirty money and see my family mired in poverty, you prig, than to fuck you; ai cannot put it any more simply than that. This matter may be considered, therefore, as finally settled.” And rising as she thus spoke, she would have quitted the room, had Mr. Collins not thus addressed her:

         “When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on the subject, I shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given me. Though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the first application. Perhaps, you have even now said as much to encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the female character.”

         “Really, Mr. Collins,” cried Elizabeth with some warmth, “you puzzle me exceedingly. I just insinuated that I would rather see my entire family housed in the chicken coop than be penetrated by the decidedly mid-sized edition of that thing you call your manhood. It what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as to convince you of it favour. Who would not leap at the opportunity to marry their own portly and debauched cousins, I ask you? And you should take it into consideration, that in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. Your portion is unhappily so small that it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualification. As I must therefore conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me. I shall choose to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.”

         “I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretensions whatever to that kind of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. Well, maybe I do enjoy certain aspects of torturing the odd hapless man; see how your tiny cock is fairly bursting with want and I could so easily release you, yet I choose not to. I would rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. I think you a prig and a numbnuts: these a some of the sincerest utterings ever spoken. Thank you again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but to accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer? You are a twisted dolt. I could never in a million years seriously entertain the possibility of bedding you, let alone marrying you. The thought gives rise to the squeamishness of my nature, and the sight of your three-inch willie only compounds the effect. Do mot consider me now as an elegant female, intending to plague you, but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart.”

         “You are uniformly charming!” cried he, with an air of awkward gallantry; “and I am persuaded that when sanctioned by the express authority of your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of being acceptable. And at that point I will punish your little bottom until it is brightly pink for your teasing insubordination.”

         To such perseverance in willful self deception Elizabeth would make no reply, and immediately and in silence withdrew. Determined, if he persisted in considering her repeated refusals as flattering encouragement. To apply to her father, whose negative might be uttered in such a manner as to be decisive, and whose behaviour at least could not be mistaken for the affectation and coquetry of an elegant female.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

         Mr. Collins was not left long to the silent contemplation of his successful love. For Mrs. Bennet dawdled about in the vestibule to watch for the end of the conference. No sooner had Elizabeth opened the door and with quick step pass her towards the staircase, had she then entered the the breakfast room, and congratulated both him and herself in warm terms on the happy prospect or their nearer connection. Mr. Collins received and returned these felicitations received with equal pleasure, and then proceeded to relate the particulars of their interview. Leaving out the part about his three-inch willie, with the result of which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied. Since the refusal which his cousin had steadfastly given him would naturally flow from her bashful modesty and the genuine delicacy of her character.  
        This information, however, startled Mrs. Bennett; she would have been glad to be equally satisfied that her daughter had meant to encourage him by protesting his proposals, but she dared not believe it, and could not help saying so.  
        "But, depend upon it, Mr. Collins," she added, "that Lizzy shall be brought to reason. I will speak to her directly. She is a very headstrong, foolish girl, and does not know her own interest but I will make her know it."  
        "Pardon me for interrupting you madam," cried Mr. Collins; "but if she is really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether she would altogether be a very desirable wife to a man in my situation. Who naturally looks for happiness in the marriage state - aside from my daily dalliances with Lady de Bourgh, that is, which need not interfere with the proceedings of a marriage bed. And in fact, in my opinion, would only enhance them. If therefore she actually persisted in rejecting my suit, perhaps it was better not to force her into accepting me, because if liable to such defects of temper. She could not contribute much to my felicity, nor my virility, if she insists on wilting my prowess with her belittling yet accurate observations.”

         “Sir, you quite understand me,” said Mrs. Bennet, alarmed. “Lizzy is only headstrong in such matters as penis size. I will assure her such things can be overridden by money. In everything else she is as good natured a girl as ever lived. I will go directly to Mr. Bennet, and we shall very soon settle it with her, I am sure.”

         She would not give him time to reply but hurried instantly to her husband, calling out as she entered the library, “Oh! Mr. Bennet, you are wanted immediately; we are all in an uproar. You must come and make Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, for she vows she will not have him, and if you do not make haste he will change his mind and not have _her._ ”

         Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from a prostitute as she entered, and fixed them on her face with a calm unconcern which was not in the least altered by her communication, nor her notice of said prostitute. Calmly, he led the naked girl to the door and ushered her through, unable to resist a light smack on her bare bum as she took her leave.

         “I have not the pleasure of understanding you,” said he, when she had finished her speech. “I was otherwise engaged. Of what are you talking about?”

         “Oh Mr. Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares she will not have Mr. Collins, and Mr. Collins begins to say that he will not have Lizzy.”

         “And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems a hopeless business.”

         “Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon her marrying him.”

         “Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion.”

         Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth was summoned to the Library.

         “Come here. Child,” cried her father as she appeared. “I have sent for you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr. Collins has made you an offer of marriage. Is it true?” Elizabeth replied that it was. “Very well – and this offer of marriage you have refused?”

         “I have, sir.”

         “Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your accepting it. Is it not so, Mrs. Bennet?”

         “Yes, or I will never see her again.”

         “An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do _not_ marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you do.”

         Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning, but Mrs. Bennet, who had persuaded herself that her husband regarded the affair as she wished, was excessively disappointed.

         “What do you mean, Mr. Bennet, in talking this way? You promised me to insist upon her marrying him”

         “My dear,” replied her husband, “I have two small favours to request. First, that you will allow me the free use of my understanding on the present occasion; and secondly, of my room. I shall be glad to have the library to myself as soon as may be, to call back Lola, the saucy little wench she is.”

         Not yet, however in spite of her disappointment in her husband did Mrs. Bennet give up the point. She talked to Elizabeth again and again; coaxed her and threatened her by turns. She endeavored to secure Jane in her interest and expounded on the vulgarities of life within a chicken coop; but Jane, with all possible mildness, declined interfering. Elizabeth, sometimes with real earnestness, and sometimes with playful gaiety, replied to her attacks. Though her manner varied, her determination never did.

         Mr. Collins, meanwhile, was meditating in solitude on what had passed, absent-mindedly stroking his small member in a vaguely consoling manner, as though reassuring it. He thought too well of himself to comprehend on what motives his cousin could refuse him, aside from the obvious; and though his pride hurt, he suffered in no other way. He regards for her was quite imaginary and lay almost entirely on the enticements of her flesh; and the possibility of her deserving her mothers reproach prevented his feeling any regret. In fact, he pictured Elizabeth’s spanking and the thought guided him effortlessly into recollections of his own spankings under the vicious and delicious wrath of dear Lady Catherine, and was able to rouse himself; within minutes, he had ejaculated pleasantly.

         While the family were in this confusion, Charlotte Lucas came to spend the day with them. She was met in the vestibule by Lydia, who, flying to her, cried in a half whisper, “I am glad you have come, there is such fun here! What do you think has happened this morning!? Mr. Collins has made an offer for Lizzy, and she has refused him.”

         Charlotte hardly had time to answer, before they were joined by Kitty, who came to tell the same news. No sooner had they entered the breakfast- room, where Mrs. Bennet was alone, then she likewise began on the subject, calling on Miss Lucas for her compassion. Entreating her to persuade her friend Lizzy to comply with the wishes of her family. “Pray do, my dear Miss Lucas,” she added in a melancholy tone, “for nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with me. I am cruelly used; nobody feels for my poor nerves.”

         Charlotte’s reply was spared by the entrance of Jane and Elizabeth.

         “Aye, there she comes,” continues Mrs. Bennet, “looking as unconcerned as may be, and caring no more us than if we were at York, provide she can have her own way. But I tell you, Miss Lizzy – if you take it into your head to go on refusing every offer of marriage in this way, you will never get a husband at all, and I am sure I do not know who is to maintain you when your father is dead. I shall not be able to keep you – and so I warn you. You will all be forced to find employment at the brothel your father so enjoys. I told you in the library, you know, that I should never speak to you again, and you will find me as good on my word. I take no pleasure in talking to undutiful child. Not that I have much pleasure in talking to anybody. People who suffer as I do from nervous complaints can have no great inclination for talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied.”

         Her daughters listened in silence to the effusion, sensible that any attempts to reason with her or soothe her would only increase the irritation. She talked on, therefore, without interruption from any of them, till they were joined by Mr. Collins, who entered the room with an air statelier than usual. On perceiving whom, she said to the girls, “Now, I do insist upon it, that you, all of you, hold your tongues unless you are using them to pleasure our poor incensed guest. Let me and Mr. Collins have a little conversation together.”

         Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane and Kitty followed, but Lydia stood her ground, determined to hear all she could; and Charlotte, detained first by the civility of Mr. Collins, whose inquiries after herself and all her family were very minute, and satisfied herself with walking to the window and pretending not to hear. Mrs. Bennet invited Lydia to strip fully and turn around. Lydia obliged, as always, and bent over, peering over her shoulders to measure Mr. Collin’s bug-eyed reaction. In a doleful voice Mrs. Bennet began the projected conversation: “Oh! Mr. Collins!”

         “My dear madam,” relied he, “let us be for ever silent on this point, and let me for a moment appreciate the splendor of your youngest and her revealing countenance. My erection may very well have grown an inch, or possibly two. At least we can hope for such things. Far be it from me,” he presently continues, in a voice that marked he displeasure in the direction of the conversation if not the view, “to resent the behaviour of your daughter – not this one: carry on Lydia. Resignation to inevitable evils is the evils duty of us all; and I trust I am resigned. Perhaps not the less so from feeling a doubt of my positive happiness had my fair cousin honoured me with her hand…Lydia, you like being looked at just so, do you not, you dirty little vixen; damned if your intimates are not dewy with it. Wiggle a little, yes, oh yes – for I have observed that resignation is never so perfect as when the blessing denied begins to lose somewhat of its value in our estimation; - damn, you _naughty_ girl, come a little closer… You will not hope, consider me as showing any disrespect to your family, my dear madam, by thus withdrawing my pretensions to your daughter’s favour – and _this_ daughter will be lucky to make it in one piece to the marriage bed, if she continues to entice so ever- eagerly – without having paid yourself and Mr. Bennet the compliment of requesting you to interpose your authority in my behalf. My conduct may, I fear, be objectionable in having accepted my dismissal from your daughter’s lips instead of your own – _these_ lips, however, I simply must touch. Good girl. Oh my! You _temptress!_ – but we are all liable to error. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair. My object has been to secure an amiable companion for myself, with due consideration for the advantage of all your family, and if my manner has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to apologize. Lydia, a little closer; let me just taste that. Oh. Mmph. _Oh!_ ”


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

The discussion of Mr. Collin’s offer was now nearly at an end, after the clean-up of other endings had been attended to, and Elizabeth had only to suffer from the uncomfortably feelings necessarily attending it, and occasionally from some peevish allusions of her mother. As for the gentleman himself, his feelings were chiefly expressed, not by embarrassment or dejection, or by trying to avoid her, but by stiffness of cock and resentful silence (the man may have been under- endowed but his rebound was something else). Even Lydia could nor distract him from his desire for Elizabeth, which he suspected was coaxed be her very refusal of him. He scarcely ever spoke to her, and the assiduous attention which he had been so sensible of himself were transferred for the rest of the day to Miss Lucas, who had the civility I listening to him. Everyone was relieved for that, especially her friends. Miss Lucas agreeably allowed Mr. Collins to confirm that she was in fact a true blonde, and thusly secured his undivided attention momentarily. The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. Bennet’s ill-humour or ill health. Mr. Collins was also in the same state of angry pride. His modest erection had regrettable not grown in stature, yet raged on in spite of him. Elizabeth had hoped that his resentment might shorten his visit, but his plan did not appear in the least affected by it.

         After breakfast, the girls walked to Meryton to inquire if Mr. Wickham had returned, and to lament over his absence from the Netherfield orgy. He joined them on their entering the town, and attended them to their aunt’s where his regret and vexation, and the concern of everybody, was well talked over. To Elizabeth, however, he voluntarily acknowledged that the necessity of his absence had been self-imposed.

         “I found,” said he, “as the time drew near that I had better not meet Mr. Darcy; that to be in the same room, the same party with him for so many hours together, might be more than I could bear, and that scene might arise unpleasant to more than myself. You see, I very much want him to bum me, yet he outwardly refuses, and is in fact wholly rude about the entire matter. The situation vexes me to no end and causes me a great deal of distress.”

         She highly approved his forbearance, and they had leisure for a full discussion of it, and for all the commendation which they civilly bestowed on each other, as Wickham and another officer walked back with them to Longbourn. During the walk back he particularly attended to her, assuring her all the while that he was principally hetero with only the occasional penchant for manlove: a hangover, alas, to the force/coyly-invited debauchery of his youth. His accompanying them was a double advantage; she felt all the compliment it offered to herself, and it was most acceptable as an occasion of introducing him to her father and mother.  

         Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield. The envelope contained a sheet of elegant, little, hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady’s flair, flowing hand. Elizabeth saw her sister’s countenance change as she read it, and saw her swelling intently on some particular passages. Jane collected herself soon, and putting the letter away, and tried to join with her usual cheerfulness in the general conversation. But Elizabeth felt an anxiety on the subject which drew off her attention even from Wickham; and sooner had he and his companion taken leave, then a glance from Jane invited her to follow her upstairs. When they had gained their own room, Jane, taking out the letter, said:

         “Tis is from Caroline Bingley; what it contains has surprised me a good deal. The whole party have left Netherfield by this time, and are on their way to town – and without any intention of coming back again. You shall hear what she says.”

         She then read the first sentence aloud, which comprised the information of their just having resolved to follow their brother to town directly, and of their meaning to dine in Grosvenor Street, where Mr. Hurst had a house. The next was in these words; “I do not pretend to lament about anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend. But we will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many returns of that delightful intercourse we have known, and in the meanwhile may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved correspondence. If you ever had any lesbian tendencies, pray tell, and write in lurid description so that I may avail myself to the lingering effects of your prose. And whence we meet again, I may be so bold as to follow up on whatever suggestions you may joyously relate. I depend on you for that.” To these highflown expressions Elizabeth listened with all the insensibility of distrust; and though the suddenness of their removal surprised her, she saw nothing in it really to lament; it was not o be supposed that their absence from Netherfield would prevent Mr. Bingley’s being there; and as to the loss of their society, she was persuaded that Jane must cease to regard it, in the enjoyment of his.

         “It is unlucky,” said she, after a short pause, “that you should not be able to see friends before they leave the country. But may we not hope that the period of future happiness to which Miss Bingley looks forward may arrive earlier than she is aware, and that the delightful intercourse you have known as friends will be renewed with yet greater satisfaction as lovers? Mr. Bingley will not be detained in London by them.”

         “Caroline decidedly says that none of the party will return into Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you:

         “When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which took him to London might be concluded in three or four days. But as we are certain it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have determined on following him thither. That he may not be obligated to spend his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel with meaningless sex offered by the tarts that hover so incessantly around rich bachelors like him. Many of my acquaintances are already there for the winter, partying and engaging in wildly raunchy engagements which I admit I do adore. I wish that I could hear that you, my dearest friend, had any intention of making one of crowd so you could partake in such pleasure with me, or because of me – but of that I despair. I sincerely hope that your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux with be so numerous and well hung as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three of whom we shall deprive you.”

         “It is evident by this,” added Jane, “that he comes back no more this winter.”

         “It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not mean that he _should_.”  

         “Why do you think so? It must be his own doing. He is his own master, or slave, depending on his mood. But you do not know all. I will read you the passage which particularly hurts me. I will have no reserves for you.”

         “Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister; and, to confess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still more interesting, from the hope we dare entertain of her being our sister. I do not know whether I ever before mention to you my feelings on the subject; but I will not leave the country without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already; he will have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing. Her relation all wishes the connection as much as his own; and a sister’s partiality is not misleading me, I think when I call Charles most capable of engaging any woman’s heart, and loins. As soon as most women lay eyes on his family jewels, they unfailingly want to partake in the pleasure such gifts are capable of bestowing, as you well know. And Georgina Darcy is no exception, I dare say. With all these circumstances to favour an attachment, and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?”

         “What do you think of _this_ sentence, my dear Lizzy?” said Jane as she finished it. “Is it not clear enough Does it not expressly declare that Caroline neither expects nor wished me to be her sister; that she only wants me as a throw-away lesbian lover; that she is perfectly convinced of her brother’s indifference; and that if she suspected the nature of my feeling for him, she means (mist kindly!) to put me on my guard? Can there be any other opinion on the subject?”

         “Yes, there can; for mine is totally different. Will you hear it?”

         “Most Willingly.”

         “You shall have it in a few words. Miss Bingley sees that her brother is in love with you and certainly in lust with you. His cock, indeed, was like a heat-seeking missile the entirety of the time he spent in your company and his so-called family jewels spilled themselves in your adoring direction upon more than several occasions; and she wants him to marry Miss Darcy. She follows him to town in hope of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he does not care about you.”

         Jane shook her head.

         “Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. At the orgy, one of his climaxes was inspired by the merest, lightest touch of your moistened quim against the tip of his very erect cock; that kind of inspiration is not to be taken lightly; most men require at least some fondling, suckling, or several minutes of manipulation of one sort or another; to just erupt in such a haphazard, instantaneous explosion of glee certainly indicates the extent of his lust for you. No one who has ever seen you together can doubt his affection. Miss Bingley, I am sure, cannot. She is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen half as much love in Mr. Darcy for herself, she would have ordered her wedding clothes. But the case is this: We are not rich enough or grand enough for them; and she is anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother, from the notion that when there has been _one_ inter-marriage, she may have less trouble in achieving a second; in which there is certainly some ingenuity, and I dare say it would succeed, if Miss de Bourgh were out of the way. But, my dearest Jane, you cannot seriously imagine that because Miss Bingley tells you her brother greatly admires Miss Darcy, he is in the smallest degree less sensible of _your_ merit than when he took leave of you on Tuesday, or that it will be in her power to persuade him that, instead of being in love with you, he very much in love with her friend.”

         “If we thought alike of Miss Bingley,” replied Jane, “your representation of all this might make me quite easy. But I know the foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of willfully deceiving anyone; and all that I can hope in this case is that she is deceiving herself.”

         “That is right. You could not have started a happier idea, since you will not take comfort in mine. Believe her to be deceived, by all means. You have now done you duty by her, and must fret no longer.”

         “But, my dear sister, can I be happy, even supposing that Bingley still wants not only to bonk me senseless but also to take me hand in marriage, in accepting a man whose sisters and friends are all wishing him to bonk elsewhere?”

         “You must decide for yourself,” said Elizabeth; “and if, upon mature deliberation, you find that the misery of disobliging his two sisters is more than equivalent to the happiness of being his lover and wife, I advise you by all means to refuse him.”

         “How can you talk so?” said Jane, faintly smiling. “You must know that though I should be exceedingly grieved at their disapprobation, I could not hesitate any longer and would allow him not only to deflower me but also to take any and all orifices of my body as his own, repeatedly and to the delight and insistence of his heart and his noble rock- hard cock, if only I were given half a chance to do so.”

         “I did not think you would; and that being the case, I cannot consider your situation with much compassion.”

         “But if he returns no more this winter my choice will never be required. A thousand things may arise in six months! He may have deflowered half of London by then!”

         The idea of his returning no more Elizabeth treated with the utmost contempt. It appeared to her merely the suggestion of Caroline’s interested wishes, and she could not for a moment suppose that those wished, however openly or artfully spoken, could influence a young man so totally independent of everyone.

         They agreed that Mrs. Bennet should only hear of the departure of the family, without being alarmed on the score of the gentleman’s conduct; but even this partial communication gave her a great deal of concern, and she bewailed it as exceedingly unlucky that the ladies should happen to go away just as they were all getting so intimate together. After lamenting it, however, at some length, she had the consolation that Mr. Bingley would be soon down again and soon dinning at Longbourn, and the conclusion of all was the comfortable declaration, that though he had been invited only to a family dinner, she would take care to have full intercourse available to him; she was seriously reconsidering her “no penetration” rule; it was time to stop beating around the bush, so to speak, and get her girls laid and married.    


	22. Chapter 22

         **Chapter 22**

 

         The Bennets were engaged to dine with the Lucases and again during the chief of the day was Miss Lucas so kind as to allow Mr. Collins to fiddle with her. “It keeps him in good humour,” said she, “and I am more obliged to you than I can express.”

          Charlotte assured her friend of her satisfaction in being useful, and that it amply repaid her fro the little sacrifice of her time and her genitalia. This was very amiable, but Charlotte’s kindness extended rather farther than Elizabeth had any conception of. It in object was nothing else than to secure her from any return of Mr. Collins’s addresses, by engaging them towards herself, even taking matters so far as to allow him full penetration, which, in her own estimations hardly constituted that act of intercourse at all, such was the compactness of his mircopenis.

         Yet his penis mattered little to Charlotte; she unlike Elizabeth, was much more concerned with his financial endowment than with the cocktail weenie between his legs. And she was not averse to seeking out more substantial conquest once the marriage vows had been attended to. After all, there were plenty of willing gentlemen in and around Meryton, and an entire brigade of horny officers to seduce.

         Such was Miss Lucas’s scheme; and his satisfaction was so favourable, that when they parted at night, she would have felt almost secure of success if he had not been to leave Hertfordshire so very soon. But here she did injustice to the fire and independence of his character, for it led him to escape out of Longbourn House the next morning with admirable slyness, and, and hasten to Lucas Lodge to throw himself at her feet. He was anxious to avoid the notice of his cousins, from a conviction that if they saw him depart, they could not fail to conjecture his design. And was not willing to have the attempt known till its success might be known likewise; for though feeling almost secure, and with reason, for Charlotte had been tolerably encouraging, he was comparatively different since the adventure of Wednesday.

         His reception however, was of the most flattering kind. Miss Lucas saw him from an upper window as he walked towards the house, and instantly set out to meet him accidentally in the lane, and wearing not a stitch under her long cap. But little had she dared to hope that so much love and eloquence awaited her there.

         In as short a time as Mr. Collin’s long speeches would allow, everything was settled between them to the satisfaction of both, and she even allowed him to take her doggy-style in a sheltered glen. A position that afforded him a fraction more depth, and surprised Charlotte by rubbing against her g-spot pleasantly, yet she was somewhat disappointed to find his girth was not quite ample enough to bring her to orgasm. And as they entered to name the day that was to make him the happiest of men; and though such a solicitation must be waived for the present, the lady felt no inclination to trifle with his happiness. The stupidity with which he was favoured by nature must guard his courtship from any charm the would make a woman wish its continuance. Miss Lucas, who accepted him solely from the pure and disinterested desire of an establishment were gained. In face her thoughts were rather more focused on a rendezvous on the morrow with the dark-haired officer Peabody, whose name she had found to be quite an inaccurate moniker; she was looking forward to a proper fuck by a generously proportioned studmuffin.

         Sir William and Lady Lucas were speedily applied to for their consent; and it was bestowed with a most joyful alacrity. Mr. Collin’s present circumstances made it a most eligible match for their daughter, to whom they could give little fortune; and his prospects of future wealth were exceedingly fair.

         Lady Lucas began directly to calculate, with more interest that the matter had ever excited before, how many years longer Mr. Bennet was likely to live. And Sir William gave it as his decided opinion, that whenever Mr. Collins should be in possession of Longbourn estate, it would be highly expedient that both he and his wife should make their appearance at the St. James’s. The Whole family, in short, were properly overjoyed on the occasion at the prospect of Mr. Bennet kicking the bucket. Hoped the dire event would hasten sooner rather than later, even thinking it so far as to commission Madame Roxanne to supply him with her most energetic recruits in the hopes that he might pleasantly expire from his extramarital exertions.

         The younger girls formed hopes of coming out a year or two sooner than they might otherwise have done; and the boys were relieved from their apprehension of Charlotte’s dying an old maid. Charlotte herself was tolerably composed, she had gained her point, and had time to consider of it. Her reflections were in general satisfactory, Mr. Collins, to be sure, was neither sensible nor agreeable; his society was irksome. He was surprisingly unskilled in the act of sexual intercourse considering all the supposed experience he had gained and she soon found that only way he could bring her moderate pleasure was with his tongue, and his attachment to her must be imaginary. But still he would be her husband. Thank Christ, she considered , for the regiment of tomcats nearby.

         Without thinking highly either of men – aside from an occasional orgiastic one night stand with one of the big boys, but matrimony, marriage had always been her goal. It was the only provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasant preservative from want. This preservative she had now obtained; and at the age of twenty and seven, without having ever been handsome, she felt all the goodluck of it.

          The least agreeable circumstance in the business was the surprise it must occasion to Elizabeth Bennet; whose friendship she values beyond that of any other person. Elizabeth would wonder, and probably would blame her; or possibly thank her for sparing her from the mediocrity of his lovetool; and though her resolution was not to be shaken, her feeling must be hurt by such a disapprobation. She resolved to give her the information herself, and therefore charged Mr. Collins, when he returned to Longbourn to dinner, to drop no hint of what had passed before any of the family. A promise of secrecy was of course very dutifully given, with one small bargaining tug that took less than three minutes flat, but it could not be kept without difficultly. For the curiosity excited by his long absence burst froth in such very direct questions on his return as required some ingenuity to evade, and he was at the same time exercising great self denial. For he was longing not only to publish his prosperous love, but also to haven one more go at the Luscious Lydia before he made his departure.

         As he was to begun his journey to early on the morrow to see any of the family, the ceremony of leaving-taking was performed when the ladies moved for the night; and Mrs. Bennet, with great politeness and cordiality , said how happy the should be to see him at Longbourn again.

         “My dear madam, “he replied, “this invitation is particularly gratifying because it is what I have been hoping to receive; and you may be very certain that I shall avail myself soon as possible, and to continue my molestation of your lovely daughters at my nearest opportunity; the night I have spent with them naked and st my mercy have proven truly splendid.”

         They were all astonished; and Mr. Bennet who could by no means wish for so speedy a return, immediately said:

         “But is there not danger of Lady Catherine’s disapprobation here, my good sir? You had better neglect your relations than run the risk of offending your dominatrix.”

         “My dear sir,” replied Mr. Collins, “I am particularly obliged to you for this friendly caution, and you may depend upon my not taking so material a step without her ladyship’s concurrence. Besides her small anger has most pleasing consequences in the playroom, if you catch my drift. Her whip cracks more fiercely and her cuffs bind rather tightly.”

         “Be that as it may, you cannot be too much upon your guard. Risk anything rather than her displeasure. And if you find it likely to be raised by your coming to us again, which I should think exceedingly probable, stay quietly at home, and be satisfied that we shall take no offence.”

         “Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude and cock are warmly excited by such affectionate attention; I will take my punishment from Lady Catherine like the man that I am; and depend on it. You will speedily receive from me a letter of thanks for this, and for every other mark of your regard and that of your daughters during my stay at Hertfordshire. As for my fair cousins, though my absence may not ne long enough necessary, I shall now take the liberty of wishing them health and happiness, not excepting my cousin Elizabeth.”

         With proper civilities the ladies then withdrew to Mr. Collin’s guest chambers to disrobe and ready themselves with oils and blindfolds for nocturnal whims, as was expected of them; all of them equally surprised that he meditated a quick return. Mrs. Bennet wishes to understand by it that he thought of paying his addresses to one or more of her younger girls, and Mary might have been prevailed on to accepted him. She rated his abilities much higher than any of the others; she shared in his fascination with the sadomasochistic arts; there was a solidity in his reflections which often struck her. And thought that if encouraged to read and improve his sexual techniques by such an example as her, he might become a very agreeable companion. But on the following morning, every hope of this kind was done away. Miss Lucas called soon after breakfast and in a private conversation with Elizabeth related the even of the day before.

         The possibility of Mr. Collins’s fancying himself in love with her friend had once occurred to Elizabeth within the last day or two. He had clearly derived excitement from the countenance of her blonde hair quim and had even attempted to insert his fingers into her right there in the drawing room. Upon not one but two times, which she politely declined each time; but that Charlotte could encourage him beyond that seemed far from what she could imagine. Indeed, her astonishment was so great that her inbred decorum was overcome, and she cried out:

         “Engaged to Mr. Collins! My dear Charlotte impossible!”

         The steady countenance which Miss Lucas had commanded in telling her story, gave ay to a momentary confusion here on receiving so direct a reproach. Though, as it was no more than she expected, she soon regained her composure, and calmly replied:

         “Why should you be so surprised, Lizzy? Do you think it incredible that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman’s good opinion, because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?”

         But Elizabeth had now recollected herself, and making a strong effort fro it, was able to assure with tolerable firmness that the prospect of their relationship was highly grateful to her, and that she wished her all imaginable happiness.

         “I see what are feeling,” replied Charlotte. “You must be surprised, very much as Mr. Collins was wishing to marry you. But when you have had time to think it over, I hope you will be satisfied with what I have done. I am not romantic; you know; I never was. I accept that I am marrying him only for his money, and that his puny manhood will likely never provide me with an inkling of an orgasm. I ask only a comfortable home, and considering Mr. Collins’s character, connection, and situation in life, I am convinced that my chances of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state.”

         Elizabeth quietly answered “Undoubtedly;” and after an awkward pause, they returned to the rest of the family. Charlotte did not stay much longer, and Elizabeth was then left to reflect on what she had heard. It was a long time before she became at all reconciled to the idea of so unsuitable a match. The Strangeness of Mr. Collins’s making two offers of marriage within three days was nothing in comparison of his being now accepted. She had always felt that Charlotte’s opinion of matrimony was not exactly like her own, but she had not supposed it to be possible that, when called into action, she would have sacrificed every better feeling, and every future climax, to worldly advantage. She did not know of Charlotte’s plan, nor could she, to bed on an every-second-nightly basis a soldier, until she had exhausted the entire regiment. Charlotte the wife of Mr. Collins was not a most humiliating picture! And to the pang of a friend disgracing herself sunk her esteem, added the distressing conviction that it was impossible for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot she she had chosen.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Elizabeth was siting with her mother and sisters, reflecting on what she had heard, and doubting whether she was authorized to mention it, when Sir Lucas himself appeared, sent by his daughter, to announce her engagement to the family. With many compliments to them, and much self-congratulation on the prospect of a connection between the houses, he unfolded the matter – to an audience not merely wondering, but incredulous; for Mrs. Bennet, with more perseverance than politeness, protested he must be entirely mistaken. Lydia, always unguarded, usually only half-clad, and uncivil, boisterously exclaimed:

         “Good Lord! Sir Lucas, how can you tell such a story? Do not know that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?”

         Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne without anger at such treatment; but Sir Lucas’s good breeding carried him through it all. And the sight Lydia’s bare young breast, bouncing with her exclamation, calmed him.

         Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from her mama’s incessancy and impertinence she confirmed his accounts by mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte herself. She also endeavored to put a stop to the exclamations of her mother and sisters by the earnestness of her congratulations to Sir William. In which she was readily joined by Jane, and by making a variety of remarks on the happiness that might be expected from the match, and excellent character of Mr. Collins, and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London.

       Mrs. Bennet was in fact too much overpowered to say a great deal while Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them than her feelings found a rapid vent. In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving the whole of the matter; secondly, she was very sure that Mr. Collins had been taken in; thirdly, she railed the girls for not allowing Mr. Collins full penetration, rear entrance –whatever –despite her earlier and adamant delivery of their one boundary; fourthly, she trusted that they would never be happy together; and fifthly, that the match might be broken off. Two inferences, however, were plainly deduced from the whole: one, that Elizabeth was the real cause of the mischief; her prudence, the timidity with which she carried out her womanly duties in the interest of securing an inheritance for her mother was deemed wildly overblown. The other that she herself had been barbarously misused by them all; and on these two points she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could console and nothing could appease her. Nor did that day wear out her resentment. A week elapsed before she could see Elizabeth without scolding her and subjecting her to spankings. A month passed away before she could speak to Sir William or Lady Lucas without being rude, and many months were gone before she could at all forgive her daughter.

        Mr. Bennet’s emotions were much more tranquil on the occasion, on account of the young, vivacious and newly-employed twin whores he kept all but captive in his private library (paid for, unbeknownst to him, by Sir William Lucas), and such as he did experience he pronounced to be of a most agreeable sort. For it gratified him, he said, to discover that Charlotte Lucas, whom he had been used to think tolerably sensible, was as foolish as his wife, and more foolish than his daughter Lydia!

        Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match; but she said less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their happiness, despite the under-development of Mr. Collins manmeat. Kitty and Lydia were far from envying Miss Lucas, for Mr. Collins was only a clergyman, and a sleazy one at that. And it affected them in no other way than as a piece of news to spread at Meryton.

        Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to retort on Mrs. Bennet the comfort of having a daughter well married. And she called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was. To rub Mrs. Bennet’s face in the fact that Mrs. Bennet failed to secure similar results despite all her diligent sexual training of her daughters, though Mrs. Bennet’s sour looks and ill-natured remarks.

       Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a restraint which kept them mutually silent on the subject. Elizabeth felt persuaded that no real confidence could ever subsist between them again. Her disappointment in Charlotte made her turn with fonder regard to her sister, of whose rectitude and delicacy she was sure her opinion could never be shaken. For whose happiness she grew daily more anxious, as Bingley had now been gone a week and nothing more was heard of his return.

       Jane had sent Caroline an early answer to her letter, and was counting the days till she might reasonably hope to hear again. The promised letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on Tuesday, addressed to their father, and written with all the solemnity of gratitude which a twelvemonth’s abode in the family might have prompted. After discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded to inform them, with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the affection of their amiable neighbour. Miss Lucas, and then explained that it was merely with the view of enjoying her society and her more acquiescent sexual availability that he had been so ready to close with their kind wish of seeing him again at Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight. For Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily approved his marriage that she thrashed him doubly, and wished it to take place as soon as possible. Which he trusted would be an unanswerable argument with his amiable Charlotte to name an early day for making him the happiest of men.

       Mr. Collins’s return to Hertfordshire was no longer a matter of pleasure to Mrs. Bennet. On the contrary, she was as much disposed to complain of it as her husband. It was very strange that he should come to Longbourn instead of to Lucas Lodge; it was also very inconvenient and exceedingly troublesome. That he wanted to help himself to the delectable offerings of her unwed daughters when he was a prospective bank balance was one thing. But to have them servicing him nightly when they should now be concentrating their efforts further afield, and with new game-changing rules, was quite another. She hated having visitors in the house while her health was so indifferent, and lovers were of all people the most disagreeable. She begrudged him getting off at the ministrations of her undoubtedly well-trained offspring, then taking his pleasures with his neighbouring wife-to-be not hours later. It was downright rude of him to expect them to act like prostitutes when there was clearly no money on offer. Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. Bennet, and they gave way only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley’s continued absence.

       Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject. Day after day passed away without bringing any other tidings of him than the report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his coming no more to Netherfield the whole winter. A report which highly incensed Mrs. Bennet, and which she never failed to contradict as a most scandalous falsehood.

       Even Elizabeth began to fear –not that Bingley was indifferent –but that his sisters would be successful in keeping him away. Unwilling as she was to admit an idea so destructive of Jane’s happiness, and so dishonorable to the stability of her lover, she could not prevent its frequency occurring. The united efforts of his two unfeeling sisters and of his overpowering friend, assisted by the attractions of Miss Darcy and the amusements of London might be too much, she feared, for the strength of his attachment.

       As for Jane, her anxiety under this suspense was, of course, more painful, than Elizabeth’s, but whatever she felt she was desirous of concealing, and between herself and Elizabeth. Therefore, the subject was never alluded to. But as no such delicacy restrained her mother, an hour seldom passed in which she did not talk of Bingley, express her impatience for his arrival. Or even require Jane to confess that if he did not come back she would think herself very ill used. It needed all Jane’s steady mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable tranquility.

        Mr. Collins returned most punctually on Monday fortnight, but his reception at Longbourn was not quite so gracious as it had been on his first introduction. He was too happy, however, to need much attention; and luckily for the others, the business of lovemaking relieved them from a great deal of his company. The chief of every day was spent by him at Lucas Lodge fucking Miss Lucas’s brains out, in any and every possible position. She became so adept at faking climaxes that he was quite convinced of his own prowess and even believed his penis to have expanded by an inch or so from such vigorous us. He sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time to make an apology for his absence before the family went to bed –as far away from his guest chambers as they could get.

       Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. The very mention of anything concerning the match threw her into an agony of ill-humour, and wherever she went she was sure of hearing it talked of. The sight of Miss Lucas was odious to her. As her successor in that house, she regarded her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte came to see them, she concluded her to be anticipating the hour of possession; and whenever she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins, was convinced that they were talking of the Longbourn estate, and resolving to turn herself and her daughters out of the house, as soon as Mr. Bennet were dead. She even believed them to be plotting his demise, and suspected (correctly) that they might be responsible for introducing him to the nubile and large-breasted twins he kept sequestered in his library. Hoping that he might retire from overstimulation or some such. She complained bitterly of all this to her husband.

        “Indeed, Mr. Bennet,” said she, “it is very hard to think that Charlotte Lucas should ever be mistress of this house, that I should be forced to make way for her, and live to see her take her place in it! And incidentally, your men’s health tonic prescription has run out almost two weeks before it was due to be renewed.”

       “My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for better things. Let us flatter ourselves that I may be the survivor. Tonic or no tonic, I’ll likely still be able to get it up if Tammy and Dawn continue to simultaneously sit on my face and straddle me. It really is a most pleasing combination, and one that has inspired me to live a great deal longer than I might otherwise have hoped to, if my days and nights were filled only with your sagging and your nagging. We can take comfort in the possibility that Sir William’s plan to kill me off is backfiring. As long as my heart holds out, I am more than up for the challenge he has issued me.”

       This was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennet, and therefore, instead of making any answer, she went on as before.

       “I cannot bear to think that they should have all this estate. If it was not for the entail, I should not mind at all.”

       “What should you not mind?”

       “I should not mind anything at all.”

       “Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such insensibility.”

        “I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for anything about the entail. How anyone could have the conscience to entail away an estate from one’s own daughters, I cannot understand; and all for the sake of Mr. Collins too! Why should he have it more than anybody else?”

        “I leave it to yourself to determine,” said Mr. Bennet. “Excuse me, will you, dear? I shall return to the library to do some, er, reading.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

       Miss Bingley’s letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. The very first sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled in London for the winter, and concluded with her brother’s regret at not having had time to pay his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he left the country.     

        Hope was over, entirely over; if only she had allowed him to ejaculate inside her, she might now be knocked up by him, a situation that would at least warrant a visit. The sisters agreed that the no penetration policy should now be well and truly defunct, and all of them vowed to approach their conquests with far less reserve. When Jane could attend to the rest of the letter, she found little, except the professed affection of the writer, that could give her any comfort. Miss Darcy’s praise occupied the chief of it. Her many attractions were again dwelt on, and Caroline boasted joyfully of their increasing intimacy, and ventured to predict the accomplishment of the wishes which had been unfolded in her former letter. She had succeeded in convincing Miss Darcy to allow her to explore her curiosity about the ways of lesbian play, a series of events that had taken her quite a bit further than she had at first intended to go, and delightfully so. She wrote also with great pleasure of her brother’s being an inmate of Mr. Darcy’s house. Mentioned with raptures some plans of the latter with regard to new furniture, and an entire new chain-and-pulley system that had been installed in the playroom.

       Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the chief of all this, heard it in silent indignation. Her heart was divided between concern for her sister, and resentment against all others. To Caroline’s assertion that she herself was partial to Miss Darcy, she could not care less. To Caroline’s assertion of her brother’s being partial to Miss Darcy she paid no credit. That he was really fond of Jane, she doubted no more than she had ever done. She could not help but recall the ease at which his straining erection had burst at Jane’s lightest touch and contemplated once again that such excitement could not be achieved without a certain level of red-blooded lust. A penchant she felt convinced Bingley still felt toward her dear sister. And much as she had always been disposed to like him, she could not think without anger, hardly without contempt, on that easiness of temper, that want of proper resolution, which now made him the slave of his designing friends, and led him to sacrifice of his own happiness to the caprice of their inclination.

       Had his own happiness, however, been the only sacrifice, he might have been allowed to sport with it in whatever manner he thought best, but her sister’s was involved in it, as she thought he must be sensible himself. It was a subject, in short, on which reflection would be long indulged, and must be unavailing. She could think of nothing else; and yet whether Bingley’s lust had really died away, or were suppressed by his friends’ interference. Whether he had been aware of Jane’s attachment even in light of her disallowance of a deeper thrust, or whether it had escaped his observation; surely this was not the case. Jane had worn not a stitch of clothing and had 69ed him, performed repeated fellatio and likewise rubbed her breasts over every inch of his body, offering them to his mouth in every manner of persuasion. Surely her intentions had been clear enough; whatever were the case, though her opinion of him must be materially affected by the difference, her sister’s situation remained the same, her peace equally wounded.

       A day or two passed before Jane had the courage to speak of her feelings to Elizabeth; but at last, on Mrs. Bennet’s leaving them together, after a longer irritation about Netherfield and its master, she could not help saying:

       “Oh, that my dear mother had more command over herself! She can have no idea of the pain she gives me by her continual reflections on him. But I will not repine. It cannot last long. He will be forgot, and we shall all be as we were before.”

        Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, but said nothing.     “You doubt me,” cried Jane, slightly coloring; “indeed, you have no reason. He may live in my memory as the most amiable, pleasure-inducing man of my acquaintance, but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear, and nothing to reproach him with. Thank God! I have not that pain. A little time, therefore –I shall certainly try to get the better.”

       With a stronger voice she soon added, “I have this comfort immediately, that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and that it has done no harm to anyone but myself. My waning desire for him is nothing a good vibrator cannot relieve.”

       “My dear Jane!” exclaimed Elizabeth, “you are too good. Your sweetness and disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not know what to say to you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, or loved you as you deserve. That you do not desire to throttle Bingley and subject Caroline to a thrashing the likes of which she would never forget are not only amazing but touchingly admirable.”

       Miss Bennet eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, and threw back the praise on her sister’s warm affection.

       “Nay,” said Elizabeth, “this is not fair. You wish to think all the world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. I only want to think you perfect, and you set yourself against it. Do not be afraid of my running into excess, of my encroaching on your privilege of universal good-will. You need not. There are few people whom I really love, still fewer of whom I think well, and even fewer that I truly desire to fuck. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit and sense. I have met with two instances lately, one which I will not mention; the other is Charlotte’s marriage. It is unaccountable! In every view it is unaccountable! How can she forever shackle herself to Sir Micropenis?”

       “My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as these. They will ruin your happiness. You do not make allowance enough for difference of situation and temper. Consider Mr. Collins’s respectability, his chequebook, and his marginally skilled tongue –he did, surprisingly, get me off that one time –and Charlotte’s steadily sluttish character. Remember that she is one of a large and gluttonous family; that as to fortune, it is a most eligible match. And be ready to believe, for everybody’s sake, that she may feel something like regard and esteem for our cousin, though it must be said: it is admittedly unlikely.”

       “To oblige you, I would try to believe almost anything, but no one else could be benefited by such a belief as this. For were I persuaded that Charlotte had any regard for him, I should only think worse of her understanding than I now do of her quim. My dear Jane, Mr. Collins is a conceited, plump, pompous, narrow-minded, unfortunately-proportioned, silly man; you know he is, as well as I do. You have witness his erectile delinquencies first-hand; and you must feel, as well as I do, that the woman who married him cannot have a proper way of thinking. You shall not defend her, though it is Charlotte Lucas. You shall not, for the sake of one individual, change the meaning of principle and integrity, nor endeavour to persuade yourself or me, that selfishness is prudence, that a lifetime of dildo-usage is substitute for the real thing, and insensibility of danger security for happiness.”    “I must think your language too strong in speaking of both,” replied Jane; “and I hope you will be convinced of it by seeing them happy together. But enough of this. You alluded to something else. You mentioned two instances. I cannot misunderstand you, but I entreat you, dear Lizzy, not to pain me by thinking that person to blame, and saying your opinion of him is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy ourselves intentionally injured. He did deliver no less than six stellar orgasms, and for that I can be grateful, and allow myself to revisit those memories fondly. We must expect a lively young man to be always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admiration means more than it does.”

       “And men take care that they should.”

       “If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified; but I have no idea of there being so much design in the world as some persons imagine.”

       “I am far from attributing any part of Mr. Bingley’s conduct to design,” said Elizabeth; “but without scheming to do wrong, or to make others unhappy, there may be error, and there may be misery. Thoughtlessness, want of attention to other people’s feelings and lustiness, and want of resolution, will do the business.”

       “And do you impute it to either of those?”

        “Yes; to the last. But if I go on, I shall displease you by saying what I think of persons you esteem. Stop me whilst you can.”

       “You persist, then, in supposing his sisters influence him?”

       “Yes, in conjunction with his friend.”

       “I cannot believe it. Why should they try to influence him? They can only wish his happiness; and if he is attached to me and truly wants to have sex with me until I cannot but remember my own name afterwards, like he told me he desires to do, then no other woman can secure it.”

        “Your first position is false. They may wish many things besides his happiness. They may wish his increase of wealth and consequence; they may wish him to marry a girl who has all the importance of money, great connections, and pride. Rather than a grasping gold digger with big knockers and a pleasingly rosy quim.”

       “Beyond a doubt, they do wish him to choose Miss Darcy,” replied Jane; “but this may be from better feelings than you are supposing, and not entirely from their obvious bitchiness. They have known her much longer than they have known me; no wonder if they love her better, and see me merely as an object for their lesbian fantasies. But, whatever may be their own wishes, it is very unlikely they should have opposed their brother’s. What sister would think herself at liberty to do it, unless there were something very objectionable? I have ample physical attractions that clearly give rise to his baser nature, not a venereal disease to speak of. Only a somewhat-annoying, rapacious family in need of a sugar daddy to colour my favour. If they believed him attached to me, they would not try to part us; if he were so, they could not succeed. By supposing such an affection, you make everybody acting unnaturally and wrong, and me most unhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am not ashamed of having been mistaken –or, at least, it is light, it is nothing in comparison to what I should feel in thinking ill of him or his catty sisters. Let me take in it the best light, in the light in which it may be understood, in the light that he pleasured me only to relieve his own needs. Which I suppose is not an entirely shocking idea in and of itself, just an admittedly disappointing one.”

       Elizabeth could not oppose such a wish; and from this time Mr. Bingley’s name was scarcely ever mentioned between them.

       Mrs. Bennet still continued to wonder and repine at his returning no more, and though a day seldom passed in which Elizabeth did not account for it clearly, there was little chance of her ever considering it with less perplexity. Her daughter endeavoured to convince her of what she did not believe herself, that his attentions to Jane had been more complex than merely the effect of a hot and heavy transient liking. Which ceased when he saw her no more; that his schlong responded to the sight of Jane’s body in all manner of enthusiasm had been more than evident. That the memory of Jane’s much-admired womanly parts were overshadowed by the more immediate pleasures bestowed by other heifers who shared his set in London may have been distressingly true. But though the probability of the statement was admitted at the time, she had the same story to repeat every day. Mrs. Bennet’s best comfort was that Mr. Bingley must be down again in the summer.

       Mr. Bennet treated the matter differently. “So, Lizzy,” said he one day, “your sister is crossed in love, I find. I congratulate her. Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in little in love now and then, used and abused and tossed aside by a rich, big-dicked cad, like the middle class trash that she is. It is something to think of as she masturbates, and it gives her a sort of jaded distinction among her companions. When is your turn to come? You will hardly bear to be long outdone by Jane. Now is your time. Here are officers enough in Meryton to disappoint all the young ladies in the country. Let Wickham be your man. He is a pleasant fellow, and would you jilt credibly.”

       “Thank you, sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me. We must not all expect Jane’s good fortune.”

       “True,” said Mr. Bennet, “but it is a comfort to think that whatever of that kind of sexual molestation may befall you, whether it be gratifying or satisfying on some level or not, you have an affectionate mother who will make the most of it.”        Mr. Wickham’s society was of material service in dispelling the gloom which the late perverse occurrences had thrown on many of the Longbourn family. They saw him often, bestowed upon him a wide variety of sexual favours, and to his other recommendations was now added that of general unreserved. The whole of what Elizabeth had already heard, his claims on Mr. Darcy, and all that he had suffered from him, was now openly acknowledged and publicly canvassed. And everybody was pleased to know how much they had always disliked Mr. Darcy before they had known anything of the matter.

       Miss Bennet was the only creature who could suppose there might be any extenuating circumstances in the case, unknown to the society of Hertfordshire. Her mild and steady candour always pleaded for allowances and she reminded them all that such a fine specimen of manmeat should not go unappreciated. At the very least, and urged the possibility of mistakes –but by everybody else Mr. Darcy was condemned as the worst of men.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes
> 
> Hello, so i just wanted to update you all about the status of this fic. It is not abandoned nor will it ever be, I graduated last year and my life dramatically changed. But now that I am more established in both my career and home, I can now devote more time to this story. I have at the moment up to chapter 40 written but a lot of that is unedited, so expect regular updates till then. Thank you all for your support and reviews, all your comments really motivate me. Enjoy dearies!

**Chapter 25**

       After a week spent in professions of love and schemes of felicity, Mr. Collins was called from his amiable, accommodating Charlotte by the arrival of Saturday. The pain of separation, however, might be alleviated on his side, by preparations for the reception of his bride, who was in fact relieved to have a moment of rest in his absence from the constancy of his sexual demands. He was finding her submissiveness rather an unexpected turn-on after all the beatings he had undergone at the whims of Lady Catherine. And as much as he enjoyed the ferocity of his patroness’s whippings. He was much surprised to find that Charlotte’s supine allowance of any and every demand he made of her was summoning his own inner beast. A newfound side to his seedy sexuality he thought exceedingly charming; as he had reason to hope, that shortly after his return into Hertfordshire, the day would be fixed to make him the happiest of men. He took leave of his relations at Longbourn with as much solemnity as before. Wished his fair cousins health and happiness again, and promised their father another letter of thanks.

       On the following Monday, Mrs. Bennet had the pleasure of receiving her brother and his wife, who came as usual to spend the Christmas at Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, gentlemanlike man, greatly superior to his total bitch of a sister, as well by nature as education. The Netherfield ladies would have had difficulty in believing that a man who lived by sex trade, and within view of his own whorehouses, could have been so well-bred and agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner, who was several years younger than Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Phillips, was an amiable, intelligent, elegant woman. A great favourite with all her Longbourn nieces. Between the two eldest and herself especially, there subsisted a particular regard. They had frequently been staying with her in town.

       The first part of Mrs. Gardiner’s business on her arrival was to distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions. When this was done she had a less active part to play. It became her turn to listen. Mrs. Bennet had many grievances to relate, and much to complain of. They had all been very ill-used since she had last saw her sister. Two of her girls had been upon the point of marriage, and after all they had allowed the men to avail themselves to the pleasures of their hands and their mouths, there was nothing to it.

        “I do not blame Jane,” she continued, “for Jane would have got Mr. Bingley if she could, and she admirably coaxed a handful of climaxes out of him. The poor dear was practically covered in his jizz from head to toe. If she saw him again she would not only allow him to bang her fully, she would use every weapon in her womanly arsenal of seduction. To ensure that his lively sperm got the job done, and even before a marriage proposal. But Lizzy! Oh, sister! It is very hard to think that she might have been Mr. Collins’s wife by this time, had it not been for her own perverseness. He made her an offer in this very room, and she refused him. She selfishly cannot abide his small penis nor his idiotic personality. The consequence of it is, that Lady Lucas will have a daughter married before I have, and that the Longbourn estate is just as much entailed as ever. The Lucases are very artful people indeed, sister. They are all for what they can get, and Charlotte has used all her wily tactics to ensure the man is putty in her hands, offering every orifice to uncountable pokings to seal the deal, and seal it she has, the little hussy. I am sorry to say it of them, but so it is. It makes me very nervous and poorly, to be thwarted so in my own family, and to have neighbours who think of themselves before anybody else. However, your coming just at this time is the greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell us, of rabbits and ten-inch stallions.”

       Mrs. Gardiner, to whom the chief of this news had been given before, in the course of Jane and Elizabeth’s correspondence with her, made her sister a slight answer, and, in compassion to her nieces, turned the conversation.

       When alone with Elizabeth afterwards, she spoke more on the subject. “It seems likely to have been a desirable match for Jane,” said she. “I am sorry it went off, repeatedly yet with no secure outcome. But these things happen so often! A young man, such as you describe Mr. Bingley, so easily falls in love with a pretty girl for a few weeks. And when accident separates them and leads him into the consecutive beds of so many willing and less virginal partners, so easily forgets her, that these sort of inconsistencies are very frequent.”

        “An excellent consolation in its way,” said Elizabeth, “but it will not do for us. We do not suffer by accident. It does not often happen that the interference of friends will persuade a young man of independent fortune to think no more of a girl whom he was violently in love with only a few days before.”

       “But that expression of ‘violently in love’ is so hackneyed, so doubtful, so infinite, that it gives me very little idea. Violently in lust, clearly, if Jane was practically bathing in his seed, as you have described. It is as often applied to feelings which arise from a half-hour’s acquaintance, as to a real, strong attachment. He had his limited way with her, then moved on to dip his quill into the veritable buffet of women on offer to a wealthy, prime beefcake stud like himself. Pray, how violent was Mr. Bingley’s love? His ejaculations may have been violent, but that is not always a reliable indicator of the depth of his love.”

       “I never saw a more promising inclination; he was growing quite inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by her. His shlong would leap to attention as soon as she so much as entered the room, and as soon as she began to undress, it took on an engorged appearance that looked very nearly painful for him. Every time they met, it was more decided and remarkable. At his own orgy he offended two or three young ladies, by not asking them to touch his cock; and I spoke to him twice myself, without receiving an answer. Could there by finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?”

       “Oh, yes! –of that kind of love which I suppose him to have felt. Poor Jane! I am sorry for her, because, with her disposition, she may not get over it immediately. It had better have happened to you, Lizzy; you would have laughed yourself out sooner. But do you think she would be prevailed upon to go back with us? Change of scene might be of service –and perhaps a little relief from home may be as useful as anything.”

       Elizabeth was exceedingly pleased with this proposal, and felt persuaded of her sister’s ready acquiescence.

        “I hope,” added Mrs. Gardiner, “that no consideration with regard to this young man will influence her. We live in so different a part of town; all our connections are so different. And, as you well know, we go out so little, that it is very improbable that they should meet at all, unless he really comes to see her.”      “And that is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of his friend, Mr. Darcy would no more suffer him to call on Jane in such a part of London! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? Mr. Darcy may perhaps have heard of such a place as Gracechurch Street. But he would hardly think a month’s ablution enough to cleanse him from its impurities, were he to enter it; and depend upon it, Mr. Bingley never stirs without him.”

       “So much the better. I hope they will not meet at all. But does not Jane correspond with his sister? She will not be able to help calling, and especially if she is able to do so independently of her brother. She fancies herself an experimental lesbian, you see, and regards Jane as a conquest of her own.”

       “Or, perhaps, she will drop the acquaintance entirely.”

        But in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected to place this point, as well as the still more interesting one of Bingley’s being withheld from seeing Jane. She felt a solicitude on the subject which convinced her, on examination, that she did not consider it entirely hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes she thought it probable, that his affection might be reanimated, and the influence of his friends successfully combated by the more natural influence of Jane’s attractions. Miss Bennet accepted her aunt’s invitation with pleasure; and the Bingleys were no otherwise in her thoughts at the same time. Then as she hoped by Caroline’s not living in the same house with her brother, she might occasionally spend a morning with her, without any danger of seeing him.

       The Gardiners stayed a week at Longbourn; and what with the Phillipses, the Lucases, and the officers, there was not a day without its engagement. Mrs. Bennet had so carefully provided for the entertainment of her brother and sister, that they did not once sit down to a family dinner. When the engagement was for home, some of the officers always made part of it –of which officers Mr. Wickham was sure to be one; and on these occasions, Mrs. Gardiner, rendered suspicious by Elizabeth’s warm commendation, narrowly observed them both as he once proceeded to rub his cock between Elizabeth’s plush breasts, providing her erstwhile with a gleaming, earthy ornament.

        Mrs. Gardiner was a sneaky woman and hid behind a bush upon another occasion, when Mr. Wickham glided his manhood against Elizabeth’s rounded buttocks. An activity he seemed to favour, which was not altogether surprising to Elizabeth considering his penchant for playing for both teams. And despite the defunct “no penetration” rule, her tender feelings for him, and her attraction, she maintained her virginity, acknowledging the tiniest thread of doubt as to his true heterosexuality. She supposed she could abide a bisexual husband, as she considered future possibilities, yet she could not help but desire devotion over deviance, which such a state of affairs might likely encourage. Without supposing them, from what she saw, to be very seriously in love, their preference of each other was plain enough to make her a little uneasy. She resolved to speak to Elizabeth on the subject before she left Hertfordshire, and represent to her the imprudence of encouraging such an attachment.

       To Mrs. Gardiner, Wickham had one means of affording pleasure, unconnected with his general powers. About ten or a dozen years ago, before her marriage, she had spent a considerable time in that very part of Derbyshire to which he belonged. They had, therefore, many acquaintances in common and had even, upon further conversation, found that they had both made love to the same young man, although not at the same time. And though Wickham had been little there since the death of Darcy’s father, it was yet in his power to give her fresher intelligence of her former friends than she had been in the way of procuring.

       Mrs. Gardiner had seen Pemberley, and known the late Mr. Darcy by character perfectly well. She had heard much of his penchant for young men, and one in particular. Here consequently was an inexhaustible subject of discourse. In comparing her recollection of Pemberley with the minute, lurid description which Wickham could give, and in bestowing her tribute of praise on the character of its late possessor, she was delighting both him and herself. On being made acquainted with the present Mr. Darcy’s treatment of him, she tried to remember some of that gentleman’s reputed disposition when quite a lad which might agree with it. And was confident at last that she recollected having heard Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy formerly spoken of as a very proud, ill-natured boy.


	26. Chapter 26

  **Chapter 26**

       Mrs. Gardiner’s caution to Elizabeth was punctually and kindly given on the first favourably opportunity of speaking to her alone; after honestly telling her what she thought, she thus went on:

        “You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy, to fall in love merely because you are warned against it; and, therefore, I am not afraid of speaking openly. Seriously, I would have you be on your guard. Do not involve yourself or endeavour to involve him in an affection which the want of fortune would make so very imprudent. I have nothing to say against him; he is a most interesting young man, with a strong body and a pleasingly shaped if not enormous man tool. If he had the fortune he ought to have, I should think you could not do better. But as it is, you must not let your fancy run away with you. He’s a vacant pretty boy with no cash. You will have sense, and we all expect you to use it. Your father would depend on your resolution and good conduct, I am sure. You must not disappoint your father.”

       “My dear aunt, this is being serious indeed.”

       “Yes, and I hope to engage you to be serious likewise.”

        “Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will take care of myself, and of Mr. Wickham too. He shall not be in love with me, if I can prevent it. I intend to restrict his sexual favours from this moment onwards, and bestow him with only one orgasm per day, if that.”

       “Elizabeth, you are not serious now.”

       “I beg your pardon; I will try again. At present I am not in love with Mr. Wickham; no, I certainly am not. I am merely enjoying his dogged attentions, although I must admit his determined attempts to gain rear entrance are becoming somewhat tiresome; it is not my preferred style. But he is, beyond all comparison, in all other regards, the most agreeable man I ever saw –and if he becomes really attached to me –I believe it will be better than he should not. I see the imprudence of it. Oh! that abominable Mr. Darcy! My father’s opinion of me does me the greatest honour, and I should be miserable to forfeit it. My father, however, is partial to Mr. Wickham. In short, my dear aunt, I should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you unhappy. But since we see every day that where there is affection, young people are seldom withheld by immediate want of fortune from entering into engagements with each other. How can I promise to be wiser than so many of my fellow-creatures if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it would be wisdom to resist? I am as much a money-grubber as any of the rest of you, regrettable as it may be. All that I can promise you, therefore, is not to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his first object. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In short, I will do my best to jerk him off occasionally yet without overdoing it, and in return I hope to achieve my very first orgasm, which has been annoyingly reclusive in its arrival, yet I hope it will soon to be forthcoming.”

       “Good luck to you on that front. What little I do know of Wickham, I gather that he prefers to receive rather than to give, if you get my meaning. Perhaps it will be as well if you discourage his coming here so very often. At least, you should not remind your mother of inviting him.”

       “As I did the other day,” said Elizabeth with a conscious smile: “very true, it will be wise in me to refrain from that. But do not imagine that he is always here so often. It is on your account that he has been so frequently invited this week. You know my mother’s ideas as to the necessity of constant company for her friends. But really, and upon my honour, I will try to do what I think to be the wisest; and now I hope you are satisfied.”

       Her aunt assured her that she was, and Elizabeth having thanked her for the kindness of her hints, they parted. A wonderful instance of advice being given on such a point, without being resented.

        Mr. Collins returned into Hertfordshire soon after it had been quitted by the Gardiners and Jane; but as he took up his abode with the Lucases, his arrival was no great inconvenience to Mrs. Bennet. His marriage was now fast approaching, and she was at length far resigned as to think it inevitable, and even repeatedly to say, in an ill-natured tone, that she “wished they might be happy.” Thursday was to be the wedding day, and on Wednesday Miss Lucas paid her farewell visit. When she rose to take leave, gingerly on account of her over-used body. Elizabeth, ashamed of her mother’s ungracious and reluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected herself, accompanied her out of the room. As they went downstairs together, Charlotte said:

       “I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza.”

        “That you certainly shall.”

       “And I have another favour to ask you. Will you come and see me?”

       “We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire.”               

       “I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me, therefore, to come to Hunsford, and relieve me with your company from the incessant and petty demands of my husband’s overzealous mini-cock.”

       Elizabeth could not refuse, though she foresaw little pleasure in the visit. “My father and Maria are coming to me in March,” added Charlotte, “and I hope you will consent to be in the party.”

       The wedding took place; the bride and groom set off for Kent from the church door, and everybody had as much to say, or to hear, on the subject as usual. Elizabeth soon heard from her friend; and their correspondence was as regular and frequent as it had ever been; that it should be equally unreserved was impossible. Elizabeth could never address her without feeling that all the comfort of intimacy was over, and though determined not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for the sake of what had been, rather than what was.

        Charlotte’s first letters were received with a good deal of eagerness. There could not but be curiosity to know how she would speak of her new home, how she would like Lady Catherine, and how happy she would dare pronounce herself to be. Though, when the letters were read, Elizabeth felt that Charlotte expressed herself on every point exactly as she had foreseen. She wrote cheerfully, seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing which she could not praise, save the obvious detail that was lacking in the marriage.

       The house, furniture, neighbourhoods, neighbouring young men of a willing and generous variety. (At least in comparison to her husband, she clarified. Some of them were of decidedly average length, with one outstanding specimen whom she had managed to seduce upon one only occasion, as yet). Roads, were all to her taste, and Lady Catherine’s behaviour was most friendly and obliging. Introducing Charlotte to the bold new world of both sadomasochism and bisexuality with care paid to both her pleasure and her pain. Charlotte could not help but gush, however, at her new discovery of thunderbeads. Which she expounded upon the pleasures of at great length and with obvious enthusiasm, and which she was becoming accustomed, at Lady Catherine’s encouragement, to inserting for up to a half hour a day, at which time Lady Catherine would administer a spanking. The excruciating pleasure of this combination was most enlightening by Charlotte’s descriptive account.

       It was Mr. Collins’s picture of Hunsford and Rosings rationally softened; and Elizabeth perceived that she must wait for her own visit to know the rest.

        Jane had already written a few lines to her sister to announce their safe arrival in London. And when she wrote again, Elizabeth hoped it would be in her power to say something of the Bingleys. Her impatience for this second letter was as well rewarded as impatience generally is.    

       Jane had been a week in town without either seeing or hearing from Caroline. She accounted for it, however, by supposing that her last letter to her friend from Longbourn had by some accident been lost.

       “My aunt,” she continued, “is going to-morrow into that part of the town, and I shall take the opportunity of calling in Grosvenor Street.”

       She wrote again when the visit was paid, and she had seen Miss Bingley. “I did not think Caroline in spirits,” were her words, “but she was very glad to see me, and reproached me for giving her no notice of my coming to London. I was right, therefore, my last letter had never reached her. I inquired after their brother, of course. He was well, but so much engaged with Mr. Darcy that they scarcely saw him. I found that Miss Darcy was expected to dinner. I wish I could see her. My visit was not long, as Caroline and Mrs. Hurst were going out. I dare say I shall see them here soon.”

        Elizabeth shook her head over this letter. It convinced her that accident only could discover to Mr. Bingley her sister’s being in town.

       Four weeks passed away, and Jane saw nothing of him. She endeavored to persuade herself that she did not regret it, that she was not pining for his deft hands, his gifted tongue and his jutting, responsive appendage. But she could no longer be blind to Miss Bingley’s inattention. After waiting at home every morning for a fortnight, and inventing every evening a fresh excuse for her the visitor did at last appear. But the shortness of her stay, and yet more, the alteration of her manner would allow Jane to deceive herself no longer. The letter which she wrote on this occasion to her sister will prove what she felt.

 

“My dearest Lizzy, I am sure, be capable of triumphing in her better judgment, at my expense, when I confess myself to have been entirely deceived in Miss Bingley’s regard for me. But, my dear sister, though the event has proved you right, do not think me obstinate if I still assert that, considering what her behaviour was, my confidence was as natural as your suspicion. I do not at all comprehend her reason for wishing to be intimate with me; but if the same circumstances were to happen again, I am sure I should be deceived again. Caroline did not return my visit till yesterday; and not a note, not a line, did I receive in the meantime. When she did come, it was very evident that she had no pleasure in it. She made a slight, formal apology, for not calling before, said not a word of wishing to see me again, and was in every respect so altered a creature, that when she went away I was perfectly resolved to continue the acquaintance no longer. I pity though I cannot help blaming her. She was very wrong in singling me out as she did; I can safely say that every advance to intimacy began on her side. Even the invitation to partake in lesbian sex was a ruse, and she made no move to unbutton my dress, to rub her own breasts against mine, or to lick on my sex in a gentle, womanly way. An activity I had harboured some curiosity about as I imagine a woman’s approach to be quite different to that of a man’s. But I pity her, because she must feel that she has been acting wrong, and because I am very sure that anxiety for her brother is the cause of it. I need to explain myself farther; and though we know this anxiety to be quite needless, yet if she feels it, it will easily account for her behaviour to me. And so deservedly dear as he is to his sister, whatever anxiety she must feel on his behalf is natural and amiable. I cannot but wonder, however, at her having any such fears now, because, if he had at all cared about me, we must have met, long ago. He knows of my being in town, I am certain, from something she said herself; and yet it would seem, by her manner of talking, as if she wanted to persuade herself that he is really partial to Miss Darcy. I cannot understand it. If I were not afraid of judging harshly, I should be almost tempted to say that there is a strong appearance of duplicity in all this. I am almost contemplating to suggest a threesome, just so I can feel his erection against my quim once again. The thought of being sandwiched between Mr. Bingley and Miss Darcy is not an altogether unpleasant one, especially since much has been said about her beauty, and the curvaceousness of her body. It would give me an opportunity to partake in a playful ménage, an activity that was not borne of my own imaginings, yet one I admit has gained some momentum since Caroline suggested it weeks or months ago. I realize, however, that the scenario is unlikely, and I will endeavour to banish every painful thought, and think only of what will make me happy –your affection, and the invariable kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. And, of course, the complete and total ownership of Bingley’s magnificent penis, which I long to lick, suck and impale myself with. Activities which have become my hope and my quest and which I endeavour to carry out with gusto if and when we are ever to meet again. Let me hear from you very soon. Miss Bingley said something of his never returning to Netherfield again, of giving up the house, but not with any certainty. We had better not mention it. I am extremely glad that you have such pleasant accounts from our friends at Hunsford. Pray go see them, with Sir William and Maria. I am sure you will be very comfortable there. –Yours, etc.”

          This letter gave Elizabeth some pain; but her spirits returned as she considered that Jane would no longer be duped, by the sister at least. All expectation from the brother was now absolutely over. She would not even wish for a renewal of his attentions. His character sunk on every review of it; and as a punishment for him, as well as a possible advantage to Jane, she seriously hoped he might really soon marry Mr. Darcy’s sister. As by Wickham’s account, she would make him abundantly regret what he had thrown away.

          Mrs. Gardiner about this time reminded Elizabeth of her promise concerning that gentleman, and required information. Elizabeth had such to send as might rather give contentment to her aunt than to herself. His apparent partiality had subsided, his attentions were over, he was the admirer of someone else. Elizabeth was watchful enough to see it all, but she could see it and write of it without material pain. Her heart and her privates had been but slightly touched, and her vanity was satisfied with believing that she would have been his only choice, had fortune permitted it. The sudden acquisition of three hundred thousand pounds was the most remarkable charm of a young lady to whom he was now rendering himself agreeable. But Elizabeth, less clear-sighted perhaps in this case than in Charlotte’s, did not quarrel with him for his wish of independence; she understood the concept of trading sex for money, certainly. Nothing, on the contrary, could be more natural; and while able to suppose that it cost him a few struggles to relinquish her. She was ready to allow it a wise and desirable measure for both, and could very sincerely wish him happy. No matter that she had not managed to achieve an orgasm from his caresses; she hoped she might procure one at the very next orgy, by whom, at this stage, she scarcely cared about.

         All this was acknowledged to Mrs. Gardiner; and after relating the circumstances, she thus went on: “I am now convinced, my dear aunt, that I have never been much in love. For had I really experienced that pure and elevating passion, I should at present detest his very name, and wish him all manner of evil. But my feelings are not only cordial towards him; they are even impartial towards Miss King. I cannot find out that I hate her at all, or that I am in the least unwilling to think her a very good sort of girl. There can be no love in all this. Who can love a man who is clearly more concerned with his own satisfaction than that of his lady friend? He climaxed several times a day during his visit, once I counted no less than six emissions within a four-and-twenty-hour timeframe. Yet my own outcome, while pleasant enough, was decidedly less conclusive. My watchfulness has been effectual; and though I certainly should be a more interesting object to all my acquaintances were I distractedly in love with him, I cannot say that I regret my comparative insignificance. Importance may sometimes be purchased too dearly. Kitty and Lydia take his defection much more to heart than I do. They admired the smoothness and rigidity of his cock upon more than one occasion, if I recall correctly. Lydia expressed a desire to suck him hard and to swallow, although this is hardly unusual when it comes to Lydia. In fact it would not surprise me in the slightest if she succeeded in carrying out her goal, and upon more than one occasion. They are young in the ways of the world, and not yet open to the mortifying conviction that handsome young men must have something to live on as well as the plain.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

         With no greater events than these in the Longbourn family, and otherwise diversified by little beyond the walks of Meryton, complete with sneaky forays into the bushes with one or more officers, sometimes dirty and sometimes hot, did January and February pass away. March was to take Elizabeth to Hunsford. She had not at first thought very seriously of going thither; but Charlotte, she soon found, was depending on the plan and she gradually learned to consider it herself with greater pleasure as well as greater certainty. Absence had increased her desire of seeing Charlotte again, and weakened her disgust of Mr. Collins. There was novelty in this scheme, and as, with such a mother and such uncompanionably sisters, home could not be faultless, a little change was not unwelcome for its own sake. The journey would moreover give her a peep at Jane; and, in short, as the time drew near, she would have been very sorry for any delay. Everything, however, went on smoothly, and was finally settled according to Charlotte’s first sketch. She was to accompany Sir William and his second daughter. The improvement of spending a night in London was added in time, and the plan became perfect as plan could be.

          The only pain was leaving her father, who would certainly miss her, and who, when it came to the point, so little liked her going, that he told her to write to him, and almost promised to answer her letter.

          The farewell between herself and Mr. Wickham was perfectly friendly; on his side even more. He cracked a woody almost instantaneously upon seeing her and playfully insisted she allow him to rub it against her backside, for old times’ sake. His present pursuit could not make him forget that Elizabeth had been the first to excite his recent hetero spree, the first to deserve his attention, the first to listen and to pity him Mr. Darcy’s denial of gargantuan reward. Of both the financial and sexual variety, the first to be admired. In his manner of bidding her adieu, wishing her every enjoyment, reminding her and warning her of what she was to expect in Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Trusting their opinion of her –their opinion of everybody –would always coincide, there was a solicitude, and interest which she felt must ever attach her to him with a most sincere regard. And since she parted from him convinced that, whether married or single, he must always be her model of the amiable and pleasing.

          Her fellow travelers the next day were not of a kind to make her think him less agreeable. Sir William Lucas, and his daughter Maria, a good-humoured girl, but as empty-headed as himself, had nothing to say that could be worth hearing, and were listened to with about as much delight as the rattle of the chaise. Elizabeth loved absurdities, but she had known Sir William’s too long. He could tell her nothing new of the wonders of his presentation and knighthood; and his civilities were worn out, like his information.

         It was a journey of only twenty-four miles, and they began it so early as to be in Gracechurch Street by noon. As they drove to Mr. Gardiner’s door, Jane was at a drawing-room window watching their arrival. When they entered the passage she was there to welcome them, and Elizabeth, looking earnestly in her face, was pleased to see it healthful and lovely as ever. On the stairs were a troop of little boys and girls, whose eagerness for their cousin’s appearance would not allow them to wait in the drawing-room, and whose shyness, as they had not seen her for a twelvemonth, prevented their coming lower. All was joy and kindness. The day passed most pleasantly away; the morning in bustle and shopping, and the evening at one of the theatres.

         Elizabeth then contrived to sit by her aunt. Their first object was her sister; and she was more grieved than astonished to hear, in reply to her minute inquiries, that though Jane always struggled to support her spirits, there were periods of dejection. It was reasonable, however, to hope that they would not continue long. Mrs. Gardiner gave her the particulars also of Miss Bingley’s visit in Gracechurch Street, and repeated conversations occurring at different times between Jane and herself. Which proved that the former had, from her heart, given up the acquaintance; as much as she would love to get fucked by Bingley, she no longer had time for his snotty cow of a sister.

         Mrs. Gardiner then rallied her niece on Wickham’s desertion, and complimented her on bearing it so well.

         “But my dear Elizabeth,” she added, “what sort of girl is Miss King? I should be sorry to think our friend mercenary.”

         “Pray, my dear aunt, what is the difference in matrimonial affairs, between the mercenary and the prudent motive? Where does discretion end, and avarice begin? Where does experimentation end, and downright perversion begin, for that matter? Last Christmas you were afraid of his marrying me, because it would be imprudent; and now, because he is trying to get a girl with only three hundred thousand, you want to find out that he is a mercenary.”

          “If you will only tell me what sort of girl Miss King is, I shall know what to think.”

          “She is a very good kind of girl, I believe, with large breasts and an enormous ass. I know no harm of her.”

          “But he paid her not the smallest attention till her grandfather’s death made her mistress of this fortune.”

         “No shit –what should he? If it were not allowable for him to gain my affections because I had no money, what occasion could there be for making love to a girl whom he did not care about, and who was equally poor? He is clearly no more than a swinging gigolo in military uniform.”

          “But there seems an indelicacy in directing his attentions towards her so soon after this event.”

         “A man in distressed circumstances has not time for all the elegant decorum’s which other people may observe. He has no issue with prostituting himself like some kind of cheap manwhore. If she does not object to it, why should we?”

         “Her not objecting does not justify him. It only shows her being deficient in something herself –sense or feeling.”

         “Well,” cried Elizabeth, “have it as you choose. He shall be mercenary, and she shall be foolish.”

         “No, Lizzy, that is what I do not choose. I should be sorry, you know, to think ill of a young man who has lived so long in Derbyshire.”

         “Oh! if that is all, I have a very poor opinion of young men who live in Derbyshire; and their intimate friends who live in Hertfordshire are not much better. I am sick of them all. I am sick to death of all this insufferable analysis about whose schlong is bigger than whose, of who wants to get off and who already has. Of who was almost –but not quite –penetrated by whom, and most of all of whose bank balances are bigger than whose, and who is fucking whom merely in order to get their greedy fists on some of the loot on offer. Thank Heaven! I am going to-morrow where I shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, who has neither manner nor sense to recommend him. Stupid men are the only ones worth knowing, after all.”

         “Take care, Lizzy; that speech savours strongly of disappointment.”

         Before they were separated by the conclusion of the play, she had the unexpected happiness of an invitation to accompany her uncle and aunt in a tour of pleasure which they proposed taking in the summer.

         “We have not determined how far it shall carry us,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “but, perhaps, to the Lakes.”

          No scheme could have been more agreeable to Elizabeth, and her acceptance of the invitation was most ready and grateful. “Oh, my dear, dear aunt,” she rapturously cried, “what delight! What felicity! You give me fresh life and vigour. Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What are young men to rocks and mountains? Oh! what hours of transport we shall spend! And when we do return, it shall not be like other travelers, without being able to give one accurate idea of anything. We will know where we have gone –we will recollect what we have seen. Lakes, mountains, and rivers shall not be jumbled together in our imaginations; nor when we attempt to describe any particular scene, will we begin quarrelling about its relative situation. Let our first effusions be less insupportable than those of the generality of travelers. Let us enjoy nature for its own sake, and not endeavour to show boring slide shows to all our friends upon our return, unless of course we happen upon some delectably rugged mountaineers upon our travels who cajole us into to vigorous mountainman sex on a hilltop. I rather hope to reach more than one summit.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

         Every object in the next day’s journey was new and interesting to Elizabeth; and her spirits were in a state of enjoyment. For she had seen her sister looking so well as to banish all fear for her health, and the prospect of her northern tour, and the errant fantasy of getting rooted –at last -by a muscle-bound wildman. Who, with a bit of luck, might finally inspire an as-yet-unobtainable orgasm, was a constant source of delight. She had heard so much about the splendour of a stellar climax, the unequalled pleasure of it, that she could not help but hope that she might be due for her own experience in due course.

          When they left the high road for the lane to Hunsford, every eye was in search of the Parsonage, and every turning expected to bring it in view. The palings of Rosings Park were their boundary on one side. Elizabeth smiled at the recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants.

          At length the Parsonage was discernible. The garden sloping to the road, the house standing in it, the green pales, and the laurel hedge, everything declared they were arriving. Mr. Collins and Charlotte appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at the small gate which led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods and smiles of the whole party. In a moment they were all out of the chaise, rejoicing at the sight of each other. Mrs. Collins welcomed her friend with the liveliest pleasure, and Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with coming when she found herself so affectionately received. She saw instantly that her cousin’s manners were not altered by his marriage; he squeezed her ass ceremiously. His formal civility was just what it had been, and he detained her some minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his inquiries after all her family, and to reflect fondly of some of their nights together Treasured memories for him indeed, especially the night, he recollected happily, when Lydia had performed fellatio while Jane sat on his face. They were then, with no other delay than his pointing out the neatness of the entrance, taken into the house. As soon as they were in the parlour, he welcomed them a second time, with ostentatious formality to his humble abode, and punctually repeated all his wife’s offers of refreshment.

         Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory. She could not help in fancying that in displaying the good proportion of the room, its aspect and its furniture were someone overwhelmed by the X-shaped torture rack, complete with chains and well-stocked with whips –in the parlour, no less! Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s influence was apparent. Mr. Collins sat in a red velvet-embroidered chair next to the device, and addressed himself particularly to her, as if wishing to make her feel what she had lost in refusing him. But though everything seemed neat and comfortable, she was not able to gratify him by any sigh of repentance. Rather looked with hesitation at the chains and with wonder at her friend that she could have so cheerful an air with such a companion.

         When Mr. Collins said anything of which his wife might reasonably be ashamed, which was certainly not unseldom –like when he recounted the previous night’s session upon this very device and with this very riding crop, he added with a sinister smile, fingering the crop’s wide end. He had tied his wife up and touched the riding crop repeatedly to her clitoris, with ever increasing pressure, until she had literally begged him to continue. Crying real tears upon her climax, such was the intensity of it, then wilting in exhaustion to be held up only by the very chains she was bound by –she involuntarily turned her eye on Charlotte. Once or twice she could discern a faint blush; but in general Charlotte wisely did not hear.

          After sitting long enough to admire every article of furniture in the room, from the sideboard to the fender to each and every whip and crop, to give an account of their journey and the pain they had so exquisitely provided. Mr. Collins invited them to take a stroll in the garden, which was large and well laid out, and to the cultivation of which he attended himself. To work in this garden was one of his most respectable pleasures, to be sure. Elizabeth admired the command of countenance with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulness of the exercise, and owned she encouraged it as much as possible. Just to get him out of the house and off her case for an hour or two was a wild relief.

         Here, leading the way through every walk and cross walk, and scarcely allowing them an interval to utter the praises he asked for. Every view was pointed out with a minuteness which left beauty entirely behind. He could number the fields in every direction, and could tell how many trees there were in the most distant clump. He could relay behind which bushes he had been sodomised, and which parishioner it had been. But of all the views which his garden, or which the country or kingdom could boast, none were to be compared with the prospect of Rosings. Afforded by an opening in the trees that bordered the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It was a handsome modern building, well situated on rising ground.

          From his garden, Mr. Collins would have led them round his two meadows; but the ladies, not having shoes to encounter the remains of a white frost, turned back. While Sir William accompanied him, Charlotte took her sister and friend over to the house. Extremely well pleased, probably, to have the opportunity of showing it without her husband’s help, not to mention his incessantly wandering hands and idiotic utterings. It was rather small, but well built and convenient; and everything was fitted up and arranged with neatness and consistency of which Elizabeth gave Charlotte all the credit. When Mr. Collins could be forgotten, there was really an air of great comfort throughout, and by Charlotte’s evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed he must be often forgotten.

         She had already learnt that Lady Catherine was still in the country. It was spoken of again while they were at dinner, when Mr. Collins joined in, observed:                                “Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honour of seeing Lady Catherine de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I need not say you will be delighted with her. She is all affability and condescension, and I doubt not but you will be honoured with some portion of her notice when service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying she will include you and my sister Maria in every invitation with which she honours us during your stay here. You will likely be whipped enthusiastically. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is charming. We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never allowed to walk home, not that we could, as battered as we frequently are. Her ladyship’s carriage is regularly ordered for us. I should say, one of her ladyship’s carriages, for she has several. Sometimes she even accompanies us for the ride, and forces us to do unspeakable things along the journey.”

         “Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible, dominating woman indeed,” added Charlotte, “and a most attentive neighbour. _Most_ attentive.”

         “Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She is the sort of woman whom one cannot regard with too much deference. And if one does, well, they will certainly bear the bruises. You should see the state of my poor buttocks.”

          The evening was spend chiefly in talking over Hertfordshire news, and telling again what had already been written. When it closed, Elizabeth, in the solitude of her chamber, had to meditate upon Charlotte’s degree of contentment. To understand her address in guiding, and composure in bearing with, her husband, and to acknowledge that it was all done very well. She had also to anticipate how her visit would pass, the quiet tenor of their usual employments, the vexatious interruptions of Mr. Collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse with each other, and with Rosings. A lively imagination soon settled it all.

          About the middle of the next day, as she was in her room getting ready for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to shake the whole house in confusion. And, after listening a moment, she heard somebody running upstairs in a violent hurry, and calling loudly after her. She opened the door and met Maria in the landing place, who, breathless with agitation, cried out –

         “Oh, my dear Eliza! Pray make haste and come into the dining-room, for there is such a sight to be seen! I will not tell you what it is. Make haste, and come down this moment.”

         Elizabeth asked questions in vain; Maria would tell her nothing more, and down they ran into the dining-room, which fronted the lane, in this quest of wonder. It was two ladies stopping in a low phaeton at the garden gate.

         “And is this all?” cried Elizabeth. “I expected at least the pigs were got into the garden, or an energetic Chilean ski instructor was seeking a ménage, but here is nothing but Lady Catherine and her daughter.”

         “La! my dear,” said Maria, quite shocked at the mistake, “it is not Lady Catherine –trust me, you will know her when you see her. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson, who lives with them; the other is Miss de Bourgh. Only look at her. She is quite a little creature. Who would have though that she could be so thin and small, yet known so for her formidable talents as a dominatrix?”

         “She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors in all this wind. Why does she not come in?”

         “Oh, Charlotte says she hardly ever does. She has an unbelievable schedule, making her rounds to all her clients. She is that sought after by the men of the area, and some of the women, who like to indulge their submissive side, and who favour lashings of every variety. It is the greatest of favours when Miss de Bourgh comes in.”

         “I like her appearance,” said Elizabeth, struck with other ideas. “She looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. She will make him a proper wife. Perhaps she can beat some of that pride out of him, although that scenario is unlikely, such is the enormity of his ego, among other things.”

         Mr. Collins and Charlotte were both standing at the gate in conversation with the ladies. Sir William, to Elizabeth’s high diversion, was stationed in the doorway, in earnest contemplation of the greatness before him, constantly bowing and practically drooling whenever Miss de Bourgh looked that way. Obviously hoping he could trouble her to squeeze him onto her roster during his visit. At length there was nothing more to be said; the ladies drove on, and the others returned into the house. Mr. Collins no sooner saw the two girls than he began to congratulate them on their good fortune, which Charlotte explained by letting them know that the whole party was asked to dine at Rosings the next day.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

          Mr. Collins’s triumph, in consequence of this invitation, was complete. The power of displaying the grandeur of his patroness to his wondering visitors, and of letting them see her civility and brutality towards himself and his wife. Was exactly what he had wished for; and that an opportunity of doing it should be given so soon, was such an instance of Lady Catherine’s condescension, as he knew not how to admire enough.

         “I confess,” said he, “that I should not have been at all surprised by her ladyship’s asking us on Sunday to drink tea and spend the evening at Rosings. I rather expected, from my knowledge of her affability, that it would happen. But who could have foreseen such an attention as this? Who could have imagined that we should receive an invitation to dine there (an invitation, moreover, including the whole party) so immediately after your arrival!”

         “I am the less surprised at what has happened,” replied Sir William, “from that knowledge of what the manners of the great really are, which my situation in life has allowed me to acquire. You people would not know about it, but let me assure you that the inner circle of knights and dames of our Empire are as debauched and imaginative as any other, if not more so, I dare say. And I do have quite a wealth of experience in such matters as domination and, more to the point, submission. Our gatherings make the Netherfield orgy look like a common tea party. About the court, such instances of elegant breeding are not uncommon.”           

          Scarcely anything was talked of the whole day or next morning but their visit to Rosings. Mr. Collins was carefully instructing them in what they were to expect, that the sight of such playrooms, so many servants, so brutal the methodology and weaponry, and so splendid an outcome, might not wholly overpower them.

         When the ladies were separating for the toilette, he said to Elizabeth –

         “Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about your apparel. Lady Catherine is far from requiring that elegance of dress in us which becomes herself and her daughter. She will likely undress you upon your arrival and select for you from her vast wardrobe of chainmail and leatherwear. I would advise you merely to put on whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest, and the easiest to remove –she has been known to cut the cloth from your skin in haste; there is no occasion for anything more. Lady Catherine will not think the worse of you for being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank preserved, and she maintains that rank at all times with not only her dress, but also her whips and her handcuffs.”      

      While they were dressing, he came two or three times, taking Charlotte roughly from behind in his excitement about the proceedings that would soon take place at Rosings. Then he went to their different doors, to recommend their being quick, as Lady Catherine very much objected to be kept waiting for her dinner, and even more so for the after dinner activities. Such formidable accounts of her ladyship, and her manner of living, quite frightened Maria Lucas who had been little used to any form of punishment.  She looked forward to her introduction at Rosings with as much apprehension as her father had done to his presentation at St. James’s. Maria had divulged to Elizabeth in a quieter moment than she, also, had not yet experienced an orgasm and anticipated the evening with a sort of horrified excitement at the prospect of having one beaten out of her.

         As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant walk of about half a mile across the park. Every park has its beauty and its prospects; and Elizabeth saw much to be pleased with. Though she could not be in such raptures as Mr. Collins expected the scene to inspire, and was but slightly affected by his enumeration of the windows in front of the house, and his relation of what the glazing altogether had originally cost Sir Lewis de Bourgh.

         When they ascended the steps in the hall, Maria’s alarm was every moment increasing, and even Sir William did not look perfectly calm. Elizabeth’s courage did not fail her. She had already decided not to willingly partake in the more extreme of the evening’s goings-on; she would participate as a voyeur, if need be, or to assist if required to. But she harboured the secret desire to enjoy the throes of climactic revelry at the hands of man she might reserve tender feelings for: a romantic notion, to be sure, yet one she was resolved to indulge. Mr. Collins, certainly, did not approximate sentiments approaching ‘fondness’, nor any of the others in attendance save Charlotte, and her affection towards Charlotte was altogether of a more civil, platonic variety. She had heard nothing of Lady Catherine that spoke her awful from any extraordinary talents or miraculous virtue, aside from her command. Which she hoped to politely decline, and the mere stateliness of money or rank she thought she could witness without trepidation.       

        From the entrance-hall, of which Mr. Collins pointed out, with a rapturous air, the fine proportion and the finished ornaments. They followed the servants through the ante-chamber, to the room where Lady Catherine, her daughter, and Mrs. Jenkinson were sitting. Her ladyship, with great condescension, arose to receive them; and as Mrs. Collins had settled it with her husband that the office of introduction should be hers. It was performed in a proper manner, without any of those apologies and thanks which he would have thought necessary.

         In spite of having been at St. James’s, Sir William was so completely awed by the grandeur surrounding him, that he had but just courage enough to make a very low bow, and take his seat without saying a word. His younger daughter, frightened almost out of her senses, sat on the edge of her chair, not knowing which way to look. Elizabeth found herself quite equal to the scene, and could observe the three ladies before her composedly. Lady Catherine was a tall, large woman, with strongly-marked features, which might once have been handsome. She wore a gloriously well-made leather catsuit, which was adorned with a utility belt of sorts. Off the belt hung a plethora of designer tools of the dominatrix, of such superior quality as to possibly render them one of a kind. Whips of several varieties, chains and handcuffs, and flexible, leather spanking tools. Around her wrist she wore a solid gold charm bracelet that dangled with small keys. Those to her handcuffs, presumably, her playrooms and other devices of restraint. Her air was not conciliating, nor was her manner of receiving them such as to make her visitors forget their inferior rank. She was not rendered formidable by silence; but whatever she said was spoken in so authoritative a tone, as marked her self-importance, and brought Mr. Wickham immediately to Elizabeth’s mind. And from the observation of the day altogether, she believed Lady Catherine to be exactly what he represented.

          When, after examining the mother, in whose countenance and deportment she soon found some resemblance of Mr. Darcy. She turned her eyes on the daughter, she could almost have joined in Maria’s astonishment at her being so thin and so small. There was neither in figure nor face any likeness between the ladies. Miss de Bourgh was pale and sickly; she wore a long, black leather dress with billowing, accentuating detail, as though it had been designed specifically to give her a more menacing impression than her thin body might otherwise have offered. Her features, though not plain, were insignificant; and she spoke very little, except in a low voice, to Mrs. Jenkinson. In whose appearance there was nothing remarkable, and who was entirely engaged in listening to what she said, and placing a screen in the proper direction before her eyes.

          After sitting a few minutes, they were all sent to one of the windows to admire the view. Mr. Collins attending them to point out its beauties, and Lady Catherine kindly informing them that it was much better worth looking at in the summer.

         The dinner attendants were exceedingly handsome. All dark-haired strapping young manservants who served the table wearing naught but miniscule black leather loin cloths and matching studded dog collars, and served all the articles of plate which Mr. Collins had promised. And, as he had likewise foretold, he took his seat at the bottom of the table, by her ladyship’s desire, and looked as if he felt that life could furnish nothing greater. He carved, and at, and praised with delighted alacrity; and every dishy manservant was commended, along with the meals they presented. First by him and then by Sir William, who was now enough recovered to echo whatever his son-in-law said, in a manner which Elizabeth wondered how Lady Catherine could bear. But Lady Catherine seemed gratified by their excessive admiration, and gave most gracious smiles, especially when any dish on the table proved a novelty to them. The party did not supply much conversation. Elizabeth was ready to speak whenever there was an opening, but she was seated between Charlotte and Miss de Bourgh –the former of whom was engaged in listening to Lady Catherine, and the latter said not a word to her all dinner-time. Mrs. Jenkinson was chiefly employed in watching how little Miss de Bourgh ate, pressing her to try some other dish, and fearing she was indisposed. Maria thought speaking out of the question, and the gentlemen did nothing but eat and admire.                                                                          

         When the ladies returned to the drawing-room, there was little to be done but to hear Lady Catherine talk. Which she did without any intermission till coffee came in, delivering her opinion on every subject in so decisive a manner, as proved that she was not used to have her judgement controverted. She inquired into Charlotte’s domestic concerns familiarly and minutely, gave her a great deal of advice as to the management of them all. Briefed her on the intricacies of how to deliver a rousing and well-executed spanking, which she used one of the manservants to illustrate. Told her how everything ought to be regulated in so small a family as hers, and instructed her as to the care of her cows and her poultry.

         Elizabeth found that nothing was beneath this great lady’s attention, which could furnish her with an occasion of dictating to others. In the intervals of her discourse with Mrs. Collins, she addressed a variety of questions to Maria and Elizabeth. Especially to the latter, whose connections she knew the least, and who she observed to Mrs. Collins was a very genteel, pretty kind of girl. She asked her, at different times, how many sisters she had, whether they were older or younger than herself, whether any of them were likely to be married, whether they were handsome, whether or not they were virgins, what their sexual preferences were, whether or not they were big-breasted, what their pain thresholds were like, where they had been educated, whether or not they were coquettish or bold, whether they were skilled at the art of fellatio, what carriage her father kept, and what had been her mother’s maiden name? Elizabeth felt all the impertinence of her questions but answered them very composedly. Lady Catherine then observed.

         “Your father’s estate is entailed on Mr. Collins, I think. For your sake,” turning to Charlotte, “I am glad of it; but otherwise I see no occasion for entailing estates from the female line. It was not thought necessary in Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s family. Do you have any experience with the masochistic arts, Miss Bennet?”

          “A little.” She thought of Mary’s constant study on the subject, her penchant for all things painful, and the spectacle she had made at a recent gathering.

          “Oh! then –some time or other we shall be happy to assist you, to provide you with a submissive, and to watch your technique. I am confident we could please you on each front, and to offer instruction if you so required it. Our instruments of pleasure and pain are capable ones, to say the least, probably superior to any you may previously used –You should try them some day. Do your sisters engage in sexual deviance?”

          “One of them does.”

          “Why did you not all learn? You ought to all have learned. The Miss Webbs all work at it, and their father has not so good an income as yours. Do you perform fellatio?”

         “No, not at all.”

         “What, none of you?”

          “Certainly one of us, and exceedingly well, so I am told. Mr. Collins, in fact, could attest to her skills, and I believe she possesses a natural talent to be envied.”

          “Indeed she does,” confirmed Mr. Collins wistfully.  

         “And perhaps others, upon occasion,” added Elizabeth.

         “That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity. Your mother should have taken you to town every spring for the benefit of the gentlemen.”  

          “My mother would have no objection, but my father hates London.”                                                                        

          “Has your governess left you?”                               

         “We never had any governess.”

         “No governess! How was that possible? Five daughters brought up at home without a governess! I never heard of such a thing. Your mother must have been quite a slave to your education.”

          Elizabeth could hardly help smiling as she assured her that had not been the case.

          “Then, who taught you? who attended to you? Without a governess, you must have been neglected.”

         “Compared with some families, I believe we were; but such of us as wished to learn never wanted the means. We were always encouraged to read on the subjects pertaining to the sensual arts, and had all the masters that were necessary, visiting us on a daily basis, and offering their bodies to us to practice our skills. Those who chose to be idle, certainly might.”

         “Aye, no doubt; but that is what a governess will prevent, and if I had known your mother, I should have advised her most strenuously to engage one. I always say that nothing is to be done in sexual education without steady and regular instruction, and nobody but a governess can give it. It is wonderful how many families I have been the means of supplying in that way. I am always glad to get a young person well placed out. Four nieces of Mrs. Jenkinson are most delightfully situated through my means. And it was but the other day that I recommended another young person, who was merely accidentally mentioned to me, and the family are quite delighted with her. Mrs. Collins, did I tell you of Lady Metcalf’s calling yesterday to thank me? She finds Miss Pope a treasure for her four sons’ education. ‘Lady Catherine,’ said she, ‘you have given me a treasure. My sons never leave the poor girl alone, but they are developing so very well in the areas of foreplay and endurance.’ Are any of your younger sisters out, Miss Bennet?”

          “Yes, ma’am, all.”

         “All! What, all five out at once? Very odd! And you only the second. The younger ones out before the elder ones are married! Your younger sisters must be very young?”

         “Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps she is full young to be much in company. Yet she is altogether willing, in every regard. But really, ma’am, I think it would be very hard upon younger sisters, that they should not have their share of society and amusement, because the elder may not have the means or inclination to marry early. The last-born has a good right to the pleasures of youth at the first –and I assure you that my youngest sister takes great pleasure in the sensual arts, and quite insistently, too. And to be kept back on such a motive! I think it would not be very likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind.”

         “Upon my word,” said her ladyship, “you give your opinion very decidedly for so young a person. Pray, what is your age?”

         “With three younger sisters grown up,” replied Elizabeth, smiling, “your ladyship can hardly expect me to own it.”

         Lady Catherine seemed quite astonished at not receiving a direct answer; she fingered one of her riding crops contemplatively. Elizabeth suspected herself to be the first creature who had ever dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence.

          “You cannot be more than twenty, I am sure, therefore you need not conceal your age.”

         “I am not one-and-twenty.”

         When the gentlemen had joined them, and tea was over, the discipline tables were placed. Lady Catherine, Sir William, and Mr. Collins sat down to attend first to Sir William, who was on his knees before Lady Catherine had even commanded him. And as Miss de Bourgh chose to play with herself, the three girls had the honour of assisting Mrs. Jenkinson to make up her party, along with one of the scantily-clad manservants. Their table was superlatively stupid. Scarcely a syllable was uttered that did not relate to the manservant’s technique as he stealthily unbuttoned Maria Lucas’s blouse, removed her petticoats, dove under her skirts, and began to administer expert-level cunnilingus with gusto. Except when Mrs. Jenkinson expressed her fears of Miss de Bourgh’s being too hot or too cold, or having too much or too little light.

         A great deal more passed at the other table. Lady Catherine was generally speaking and performing all of the domination play –stating the mistakes of the others, or relating some anecdote of herself. Mr. Collins was employed in agreeing to everything her ladyship said, thanking her for every lash, and apologizing if he thought he was enjoying himself too much.

         Sir William did not say much. He was storing his memory with anecdotes and descriptions of the novel sensations he was experiencing. Only when he released a guttural groan at the receiving end of a particularly vicious assault by Lady Catherine, accompanied by a tightening of certain well-placed bindings, could his satisfaction be recognized for what it was. Lady Catherine then followed suit by whipping Mr. Collins enthusiastically, and Elizabeth was surprised by how much punishment the man could willingly take. Maria Lucas, meanwhile, had overcome any and all of her earlier reticence and was begging Alejandro to secure her nipple clamps just a little more tightly. Once he had done so, she loudly achieved a lively orgasm, giving every indication that it was as pleasing as she had dared to hope for.

         When Lady Catherine and her daughter had played as long as they chose, the tables were broken up, the carriage was offered to Mrs. Collins, gratefully accepted and immediately ordered. The party then gathered round the fire to hear Lady Catherine determine what whether they were to have on the morrow. From these instructions they were summoned by the arrival of the coach; and with many speeches of thankfulness on Mr. Collins’s side and as many bows on Sir William’s they departed. As soon as they had driven from the door, Elizabeth was called on by her cousin to give her opinion of all that she had seen at Rosings. Which for Charlotte’s sake, she made more favourable than it really was. But her commendation, though costing her some trouble, could by no means satisfy Mr. Collins, and he was very soon obliged to take her ladyship’s praise into his own hands.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

         Sir William stayed only a week at Hunsford, but his visit was long enough to convince him of his daughter’s being most comfortably settled, and of her possessing such a husband and such a neighbour as were not often met with. While Sir William was with them, Mr. Collins devoted his morning to driving him out in his gig, and showing him the country. But when he went away, the whole family returned to their usual employments, and Elizabeth was thankful to find that they did not see more of her cousin by the alteration. For the chief of the time between breakfast and dinner was now passed by him either at work in the garden or in jerking off his diminutive penis, and looking out of the window in his own bonk-room, which fronted the road. The room in which the ladies sat was backwards. Elizabeth had at first rather wondered that Charlotte should not prefer the dining-parlour for common use; it was a better sized room, and had a more pleasant aspect. But she soon saw that her friend had an excellent reason for what she did, for Mr. Collins would undoubtedly have been much less in his own apartment, had they sat in one equally lively. She gave Charlotte credit for the arrangement.      

         From the drawing-room they could distinguish nothing in the lane, and were indebted to Mr. Collins for the knowledge of what carriages went along, and how often. Especially when Miss de Bourgh drove by in her phaeton, which he never failed coming to inform them of, though it happened almost every day. She not infrequently stopped at the Parsonage, and had a few minutes’ conversation with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever prevailed upon to get out.

          Very few days passed in which Mr. Collins did not walk to Rosings, and not many in which his wife did not think it necessary to go likewise. And till Elizabeth recollected that there might be other family livings to be disposed of and deviants to be punished, she could not understand the sacrifice of so many hours. Now and then they were honoured with a call from her ladyship, and nothing escaped her observation that was passing in the room during these visits. She examined into their employments, looked at their techniques of torture, and advised them to do it differently and much more strenuously. Found fault with the arrangement of the furniture; or detected the housemaid in negligence. And if she accepted any refreshment, seemed to do it only for the sake of finding out that Mrs. Collins’s joints of meat were too large for her family, and that Mr. Collins’s meat was too small, a detail she knew only too well.

          Elizabeth soon perceived, that though this great lady was not in commission of the peace of the county, she was a most active mistress in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which were carried to her by Mr. Collins. Whenever any of the cottager were disposed to be quarrelsome, discontented, or too poor, she sallied forth into the village to settle their difference, silence their complaints, and scold them into harmony, submission and plenty.

         The entertainment of dining at Rosings was repeated about twice a week; and allowing for the loss of Sir William, and there being only one discipline table in the evening, every such entertainment was counterpart of the first. Their other engagements were few, as the style of living in the neighbourhood in general was beyond Mr. Collins’s reach. This, however, was no evil to Elizabeth, and upon the whole time she spent her time comfortably enough. There were half-hours of pleasant conversation with Charlotte, and the weather was so fine for the time of year that she had often great enjoyment out of doors. Her favourite walk, and where she frequently went while the others were calling on Lady Catherine, was along the open grove which edged that side of the park, where there was a nice sheltered path. Which no one seemed to value but herself, and where she felt beyond the reach of Lady Catherine’s curiosity and discipline.

         In this quiet way, the first fortnight of her visit soon passed away. Easter was approaching, and the week preceding it was to bring an addition to the family at Rosings, which in so small a circle must be important. Elizabeth had heard soon after her arrival that Mr. Darcy was expected there in the course of a few weeks. And though there were not many of her acquaintances whom she did not prefer, his coming would furnish one comparatively new to look at in their Rosings parties. She might be amused in seeing how hopeless Miss Bingley’s designs on him were, by his behaviour to his cousin, for whom he was evidently destined by Lady Catherine. Who talked of his coming with the greatest satisfaction, spoke of him in terms of the highest admiration, and seemed almost angry to find that he had already been frequently seen by Miss Lucas and herself.

          His arrival was soon known at the Parsonage; for Mr. Collins was walking the whole morning within view of the lodges opening into Hunsford Lane. In order to have the earliest assurance of it, and after making his bow as the carriage turned into the Park, hurried home with the great intelligence. On the following morning he hastened to Rosings to pay his respects. There were two nephews of Lady Catherine to require them, for Mr. Darcy had brought with him a Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of his Earl uncle--, and, to the great surprise of all the party, when Mr. Collins returned, the gentleman accompanied him. Charlotte had seen them from her husband’s room, crossing the road, and immediately running into the other, told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding:

          “I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon me.”

          Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the compliment, before their approach was announced by the door-bell, and shortly afterwards the three gentlemen entered the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who led the way, was about thirty, not handsome, but muscular, as though underneath the civilized layers of his uniform there were rippling abs and guns to die for, and most truly the gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire. Tall, beautifully well-made, every inch the nobleman yet with that slightly roughed-up-around-the-edges ruggedness that brought a rose to Elizabeth’s cheeks. It likewise inspired a distracting sweet ache in her nether regions which she did her best to discourage and ignore. Mr. Darcy paid his compliments, with his usual reserve, to Mrs. Collins, and whatever might be his feelings toward her friend, met her with every appearance of composure. Elizabeth merely curtseyed to him without saying a word.

         Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly. But his cousin, after having addressed a slight observation on the house and garden to Mrs. Collins, sat for some time without speaking to anybody. At length, however, his civility was so far awakened as to inquire of Elizabeth after the health of her family. She answered him in the usual way, and after a moment’s pause, added:

         “My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you never happened to see her there?”

         She was perfectly sensible that he never had; but she wished to see whether he would betray any consciousness of what had passed between the Bingleys and Jane. She thought he looked a little confused as he answered that he had never been so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet. The subject was pursued no further, and the gentlemen soon afterwards went away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	31. Chapter 31

  **Chapter 31**

         Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners and musculature were very much admired at the Parsonage, and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably to the pleasures of their engagements at Rosings. Finally, a burly he-man! The ladies all agreed that lashings under his administration would produce an entirely different sensibility to those given by either Lady Catherine or Miss de Bourgh. Whose sour countenance tended toward the downright vicious. It was some days, however, before they received any invitation thither –for while there were visitors in the house, they could not be necessary. It was not till Easter-day, almost a week after the gentlemen’s arrival, that they were honoured by such an attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to come there in the evening. For the last week they had seen very little of Lady Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam had called at the Parsonage more than once during the time but Mr. Darcy they had seen only at church.

          The invitation was accepted of course, and at a proper hour they joined the party in Lady Catherine’s discipline room. Her ladyship received them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else. She was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room.                         Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; anything was a welcome relief to him from the whip at Rosings. And Mrs. Collins’s pretty friend had moreover caught his fancy very much. He now seated himself by her, and talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and orgies and masturbation, that Elizabeth had never been half so well entertained in that room before. They conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself, as well as Mr. Darcy. His eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned towards them with a look of curiosity, and heat. Her ladyship, after a while, shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged, for she did not scruple to call out:

         “What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.”

          “We are speaking of masturbation, madam,” said he, when no longer able to avoid a reply.

         “Of masturbation! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation if you are speaking of masturbation. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of masturbation than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt –and I’m being ironic here –I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?”

          Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister’s proficiency.

“I am very glad to hear such a good account of her,” said Lady Catherine; “and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel if she does not practice a good deal.”

          “I assure you, madam,” he replied, “that she does not need such advice. She practices very constantly.”

         “So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often tell young ladies that no excellence in masturbation is to be acquired without constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never have an orgasm unless she practices more. Though Mrs. Collins has no instrument and only her husband’s tiny cock to attempt to gain pleasure from. She is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day, and play with the dildos in Mrs. Jenkinson’s room. She has an impressive collection. She would be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part of the house.”

         Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt’s ill-breeding, and made no answer.

         When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having promised to play with him; and she sat down directly to his instrument. He drew his chair nearer to her, to give her better access. Lady Catherine listened to his heavying breath, and then talked, as before, to her other nephew. Till the latter walked away from her, and making with his usual deliberation towards where Elizabeth was pleasuring the Colonel by stroking his shaft. Which, she reflected, was of an average size and nowhere near as impressive as Darcy’s, and stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer’s countenance. Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said:

         “You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to watch me? I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will –or size –of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.”

         “I shall not say you are mistaken,” he replied, the bulge of his enormous cock beginning to strain against his breeches, inspired it would seem at the playful banter and observation of her nimble fingers, “because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you. I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own. Not only that, but you seem to derive even greater pleasure in teasing a man to painful arousal with your careful, delicate fingers, yet leaving him wanting for more.”

         Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to Colonel Fitzwilliam, “Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous of you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire. Give me leave to say, very impolitic too, as I stroke the Colonel –for it is provoking me to retaliate. To uncharacteristically by your accounts provide the Colonel here with a very pleasing climax, and such things may come out as will shock your relations to hear.”

         “I am not afraid of you,” said he, smiling.

          “Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” cried Colonel Fitzwilliam, exhaling heavily as Elizabeth’s energy at the exchange was making itself known in the pressure and friction being applied by her tightening fists. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers,” he gasped.

          “You shall hear then –but prepare yourself for something dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball –and at this ball, what do you think he did? He engaged with only four women, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one lady was sitting out in want of a partner, while he pleasured himself. Mr. Darcy you cannot deny the fact.”

          “I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.”

         “True; and nobody can ever be introduced at a ball. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do you want me to do next? My fingers wait your orders.”                                                  “Perhaps,” said Darcy, “I should have judged you better, had I sought an introduction; but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.”   

         “Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?” said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam, squeezing the base of his shaft with more pressure. “Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who possessed the kind of schlong every woman drools over at first countenance, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?”

         “I can answer your question,” groaned Fitzwilliam, “without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”

         “I certainly have not the talent which some people clearly possess,” said Darcy, “of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.”

         “My fingers,” said Elizabeth, “do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault –because I will not take the trouble of practicing. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s superior execution.”

          Colonel Fitzwilliam uttered a strangled-sounding groan that might have been: “Your fingers and your delivery feel extraordinarily superior to me.” But his garbled words were scantily heard by Darcy and Elizabeth as they continued their playful conversational foreplay.

          Darcy smiled and said, “You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of feeling your touch can think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers.”

         Here they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to know what they were talking of. Elizabeth immediately began stroking Colonel Fitzwilliam again, more vigorously. Lady Catherine approached, and, after watching for a few minutes, said to Darcy:

         “Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if she practiced more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne’s. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn. And she would certainly have brought the Colonel to release by now.”

          Elizabeth looked at Darcy to see how cordially he assented to his cousin’s praise. But neither at that moment nor at any other could she discern any symptom of love. From the whole of his behaviour to Miss de Bourgh she derived this comfort for Miss Bingley, that he might have been just as likely to marry her, had she been his relation.

         Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth’s performance, mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste. Elizabeth received them well with all the forbearance of civility, and, at the request of Colonel Fitzwilliam, remained at her instrument until he erupted ecstatically.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

         Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to Jane while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine, and under that apprehension was putting away her half-finished letter that she might escape all impertinent questions. When the door opened, and, to her very great surprise, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only, entered the room. He loomed over her, his dark hair barely windblown from the day, his body tensed and tall and strong-looking. As his dark eyes watched her, she became aware of a tingling awareness in her nether regions at the sight of his brawny musculature and brooding countenance, which brought a rose of colour to her cheeks.

         He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologized for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies were to be within.

         They then sat down, he with some discomfort; he adjusted his breeches against a lengthening erection, as though he could sense her own arousal and was responding to it in turn. Her breasts felt swollen and tender under his hungry gaze, and she unmindfully –after all the insistent tutelage of her mother –unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse, plumping herself coyly for his pleasure. She found herself imagining that he might unfasten the remaining buttons, to take her breasts in his large hands and draw her nipples into the warm fire of his mouth. But she remembered his stance on begging and refrained from doing so; and when her inquiries after Rosings were made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was absolutely necessary, therefore, to think of something, and in this emergence recollecting when she had seen him in Hertfordshire. Feeling curious to know what he would say on the subject of their hasty departure, she observed:

         “How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy! It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London?”

          “Perfectly so, I thank you.”

          She found that she was to receive no other answer, and, after a short pause, added:

          “I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever returning to Netherfield again?” She licked her parted lips, and his eyes followed the motion of her tongue attentively.

         “I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may spend very little of his time there in the future. He has many friends, and is at a time of life when friends of all descriptions, and engagements aplenty are continually increasing.”

         “If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the neighborhood that he should give up the place entirely. For then we might possibly get a settled family there, or, better yet, another well-endowed supercad. But, perhaps, Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighborhood as for his own, and we must expect him to keep it or quit it on the same principle.”

         “I should not be surprised,” said Darcy, adjusting his position once more, “if he were to give it up as soon as any eligible purchase offers.”

         Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of his friend; and, having nothing else to say, was now determined to leave the trouble of finding a subject to him.

          He took the hint, and soon began with, “This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford.”

         “I believe she did –and I am sure she could not have bestowed her torture on a more grateful object.”

         “Mr. Collins appears to be very fortunate in his choice of a wife.”

         “Yes, indeed, his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few accommodating women who would have accepted him and indulged his small size, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding –though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light it is certainly a very good match for her.”

         “It must be very agreeable for her to be settled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends.”

         “An easy distance, do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles.”

         “And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day’s journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance.”

          His purposefully argumentative tone was turning her on even more, and her quim fairly tingled with pleasurable warmth. She remembered his hot breath on her skin and the recollection caused her intimates to moisten and swell.

         “I should never have considered the distance as one of the advantages of the match,” cried Elizabeth. “I should never have said Mrs. Collins was settled near her family.”

          “It is proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Anything beyond the very neighborhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far.”

          As he spoke there was a sort of smile which Elizabeth fancied she understood; he must be supposing her to be thinking of Jane and Netherfield, and she blushed as she answered:

         “I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expenses of travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not the case here. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not such a one as to allow of frequent journeys. I persuaded my friend would not call herself near her family under less than half the present distance.”

         Mr. Darcy’s eyes were dark with lust. He drew his chair a little towards hers, and, as though reading her thoughts. Slowly undid the remainder of her buttons, drawing open the fabric of her blouse to reveal her full breasts. “I have thought of little else but these bountiful orbs since I last beheld them,” he murmured. Elizabeth squirmed with desire, offering herself to him. Mr. Darcy took a nipple between his fingers, rolling and pinching it into a painfully sensitive bud; he repeated this action with the other, until Elizabeth’s nipples were reddened and tight.

         The playful yet dark manipulation of Mr. Darcy’s forcible fingers inspired a pleasurable channel of fluid heat which reached from Elizabeth’s tender nipples to her engorged intimates. Which became slick and wanting and lit with the beginnings of a sweet rise which Elizabeth guessed to be the elusive hint of extreme arousal. Elizabeth moaned softly, then caught herself, but the small noise had issued an invitation he was only to eager to accept. He caressed her breasts with his rough hands, taking a rosy nipple into his mouth. Suckling strongly first on one, then the other, for a minute or more, using his tongue to caress the underside of each nipple. His teeth gently bit her tender, responsive flesh, and he said against her skin, “You cannot have a right to such a very strong local attachment. You cannot have been always at Longbourn.”

         Elizabeth looked surprised. The gentleman experienced some change of feeling; he pulled back slowly, removing his touch. He drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and glancing over it, said, in a colder voice:

         “Are you pleased with Kent?”

         They were equally aroused and incensed, infused with desire yet altogether stubborn. A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either side calm and concise –and soon put an end to by the entrance of Charlotte and her sister, just returned from her walk. Elizabeth casually drew her blouse together but did not button it. After all, Darcy’s clearly outlined mammoth hard-on, and the peakedness of her nipples, which jutted against the thin film of her clothing, were not to be disguised. The tête-à-tête surprised them. Mr. Darcy related the mistake which had occasioned his intruding on Miss Bennet, and after sitting a few minutes longer without saying much to anybody, went away.

         “What can be the meaning of this?” said Charlotte, as soon as he was gone. “My dear, Eliza, he must be in love with you, or he would never have called us in this familiar way.”

          “Or at very least he must be in lust with you,” added Maria. “Did you see the size of that thing? Good Lord, Eliza. You will have difficulty accommodating it, I dare say, if the fortunate occurrence ever does come to pass.”

          But when Elizabeth told of his silence; it did not seem very likely, even to Charlotte’s wishes, to be the case. After various conjectures, they could at last only suppose his visit to proceed from the difficulty of finding anything to do, which was the more probable from the time of year. All field sports were over, as were the water sports. Within doors there was Lady Catherine, bondage, and a discipline table, but gentlemen cannot always be within doors. And in the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, the two cousins found a temptation from this period of walking thither almost every day. They called at various times of the morning, sometimes separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied by their aunt. It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he had pleasure in their society, a persuasion which of course recommended him still more. Elizabeth was reminded by her own satisfaction in being with him, as well as by his evident admiration of her, not least due to her willingness to caress his wiener at length, of her former favourite George Wickham. Though, in comparing them, she saw there was less captivating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manner and cock, unless she worked him to extremes, she believed he might have the best informed mind.

          But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage, it was more difficult to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there ten minutes together without opening his lips. When he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice –a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He seldom appeared really animated; the only part of him that was uniformly spirited was his hard-on, which continued to amaze everybody, and most of all Elizabeth, as one could not help but fixate upon its bounty.

         Mrs. Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s occasionally laughing at his stupidity, proved that he was generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told her. As she would liked to have believed this change the effect of love, and the object of that love her friend Eliza, she set herself seriously to work to find it out. She watched him whenever they were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford. Admiring the lines of him, the wide shouldered physique, the brutal strength contained beneath the civilized layers of his expensive clothing. The thick dark hair that was a fraction too long, curling in unruly waves just so over his collar, the long legs and solid thighs, the ever-enticing package. Which sprang to attention whenever he caught Elizabeth unintentionally caressing it with her gaze (as all the women could not help but do); but without much success. He certainly looked at her friend a great deal, fondled and suckled on her breasts whenever given the opportunity. He seemed somewhat fixated upon them, and walked around with a perpetually massive erection, but the expression of that look was disputable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often doubted whether there was much admiration in it, and sometimes it seemed nothing but lust, or absence of mind.

         She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth the possibility of his being partial to her, but Elizabeth always laughed at the idea. Claiming that he was indeed fond of her nipples, yet she was not at all sure the partiality extended beyond them. Mrs. Collins did not think it right to press the subject, from the danger of raising expectations which might only end in disappointment. For in her opinion it admitted not of a doubt, that all her friend’s dislike would vanish, if she could suppose him to be in her power.

          In her kind schemes for Elizabeth, she sometimes planned her marrying Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was beyond comparison the most pleasant man; he certainly admired her, and his situation in life was most eligible. But, to counterbalance these advantages, Mr. Darcy had a considerably longer schlong, while his cousin was rather average in that department.


	33. Chapter 33

  **Chapter 33**

         More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park, unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought, and, to prevent its every happening again, took care to inform him at first that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even a third. It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance. For on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her.

          He never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or listening much. But it struck her in the course of their third rencontre that he was asking some unconnected questions –about her pleasure in being at Hunsford. How she felt about being tied up, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. Collins’s happiness. And that in speaking of Rosings and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too. His words seemed to imply it. Could he have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts? She supposed, if he meant anything, he must mean an allusion to what might arise in that quarter, namely, Colonel Fitzwilliam’s ‘instrument’. It distressed her a little, and she was quite glad to find herself at the gate in the pales opposite the Parsonage.

          She was engaged one day as she walked, in perusing Jane’s last letter, and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane had not written in spirits. When, instead of being again surprised by Mr. Darcy, she saw on looking up that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her. Putting away the letter immediately and forcing a smile, she said:

         “I did not know before that you ever walked this way.”

         “I might have been making the tour of the park,” he replied, “as I generally do every year, and intend to close it with a call at the Parsonage. Are you going much farther?”

         “No, I should have turned in a moment.”

          And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the Parsonage together.

         “Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?” said she.

          “Yes –if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. He arranges the business just as he pleases.”

          “And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at least pleasure in the great power of choice. I do not know anybody who seems more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr. Darcy.”

         “He likes to have his own way very well,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. “But so we all do. It is the nature of the beast, as domination runs in our family, and insisting on total control walks hand in hand with that particular inclination. It is only that he has better means of having his own way than many others, because he is rich, and anatomically blessed, and many others are poor, or lacking in length. I speak feelingly. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and dependence.”

         “In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very little of either. Now seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial and dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money or from going wherever you chose, having sex with anyone you want, or procuring anything you had a fancy for?”    “These are home questions –and perhaps I cannot say that I have experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters of greater weight, I may suffer from want of money. Younger sons cannot marry where they like.”

          “Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very often do.”

         “Our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are not many in my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to money.”

         “Is this,” thought Elizabeth, “meant for me?” and she coloured at the idea; but, recovering herself, said in a lively tone, “And pray, what is the usual price of an earl’s younger son? Unless the elder brother is very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above five hundred thousand pounds.”

         He answered her in the same style and the subject dropped. To interrupt a silence which might make him fancy her affected with what had passed, she soon afterwards said:

          “I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of having someone at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to secure a lasting convenience of that kind. But, perhaps, his sister does as well for the present, and, as she is under his sole care, he may do what he likes with her.”

         “No,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, “that is an advantage which he must divide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy. Having the advantage of being her cousin rather than her brother, I can guard her with utmost attention to detail. I have been known to guard her into a complete and blissful stupor.”

         “Are you indeed? And pray what sort of guardians do you make? Does your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age are sometimes difficult to manage, and if she has the true Darcy spirit, she may like to have her own way.”          As she spoke she observed him looking at her earnestly; and the manner in which he immediately asked her why she supposed Miss Darcy likely to give them any uneasiness, convinced her that she had somehow or other got pretty near the truth. She directly replied:                                                

         “You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her; and I dare say she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world. She is a very great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance, and Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that you know them.”

         “I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant gentlemanlike man –he is a great friend of Darcy’s.”

         “Oh! yes,” said Elizabeth drily; “Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr. Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.”                                                                         

         “Care of him! Yes, I really believe Darcy does take care of him in those points where he most wants to care. From something that he told me in our journey hither, I have reason to think Bingley very much indebted to him. But I ought to beg his pardon, for I have no right to suppose that Bingley was the person meant. It was all conjecture.”      

          “What is it you mean?”

          “It is a circumstance which Darcy could not wish to be generally known, because if it were to get round to the lady’s family, it would be an unpleasant thing.”

          “You may depend on my not mentioning it.”

         “And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it to be Bingley. What he told me was merely this: that he congratulated himself on having lately saved a friend from the inconveniences of a most imprudent marriage and just in time. It was estimated that at the lovers’ very next encounter the gentleman would have been unable to further resist the temptation of the lady’s ridiculously juicy quim and would have had no choice but to impale her repeatedly with his engorged lovetool.  But without mentioning names or any other particulars, and I only suspected it to be Bingley from believing him the kind of young man to get into a scrape of that sort. Since he is in fact a decidedly promiscuous fellow and one that does not often refrain from full penetration, and from knowing them to have been together the whole of last summer.”

         “Did Mr. Darcy give you reasons for this interference?”

          “I understood that there were some very strong objections against the lady.”

          “And what arts did he use to separate them?”

          “He did not talk to me of his own arts,” said Fitzwilliam, smiling. “he only told me what I have now told you.”

         Elizabeth made no answer, and walked on, her heart swelling with indignation. After watching her a little, Fitzwilliam asked her why she was so thoughtful.

          “I am thinking of what you have been telling me,” said she. “Your cousin’s conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he to be the judge?”                                                   

         “You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?”

         “I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the propriety of his friend’s inclination or penetration, or why, upon his own judgement alone, he was to determine and direct in what manner his friend was to be happy. But,” she continued, recollecting herself, “as we know none of the particulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposed that there was much affection in the case.”                         

        “That is not an unnatural surmise,” said Fitzwilliam, “But it is a lessening of the honour of my cousin’s triumph very sadly.”

          This was spoken jestingly; but it appeared to her so just a picture of Mr. Darcy. That she would not trust herself with an answer, and therefore, abruptly changing the conversation talked on indifferent matters until they reached the Parsonage. There, shut into her own room, as soon as their visitor left them, she could think without interruption of all she had heard. It was not to be supposed that any other people could be meant than those with whom she was connected. There could not exist in the world two men over whom Mr. Darcy could have such boundless influence. That he had been concerned in the measures taken to separate Bingley and Jane she had never doubted. But she had always attributed Miss Bingley the principal design and arrangement of them. If his own vanity, however, did not mislead him, he was the cause, his pride and caprice were the cause, of all that Jane had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He had ruined for a while every hope of happiness for the most affectionate, generous heart and breasts in the world; and no one could say how lasting an evil he might have inflicted.

         “There were some very strong objections against the lady,” were Colonel Fitzwilliam’s words. Those strong objections probably were, her having one uncle who was a country band banjo player, and another who was in the sex trade in London.

         “To Jane herself,” she exclaimed, “there could be no possibility of objection; all loveliness and goodness as she is! –her understanding is excellent, her mind improved, her body unbelievable, and her manners captivating. Neither could anything be urged against my father, who, though with some peculiarities, has abilities Mr. Darcy himself need not disdain, and respectability which he will probably never reach.”

          When she thought of her mother, her confidence gave way a little; but she would not allow that any objections there had material weight with Mr. Darcy. Whose pride, she was convinced, would receive a deeper wound from the want of importance in his friend’s connections, than from their want of sense. She was quite decided, at last, that he had been partly governed by this worst kind of pride, and partly by the wish of retaining Mr. Bingley for his sister.

         The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned, brought on a headache. It grew so much worse towards the evening, that, added to her unwillingness to see Mr. Darcy, it determined her not to attend her cousins to Rosings, where they were engaged to be disciplined. Mrs. Collins, seeing that she was really unwell, did not press her to go and as much as possible prevented her husband from pressing his member against her. Mr. Collins could not conceal his apprehension and barely-suppressed glee of Lady Catherine’s being rather displeased by her staying at home.


	34. Chapter 34

  **Chapter 34**

         When they were gone, Elizabeth, as if intending to exasperate herself as much as possible against Mr. Darcy, chose for her employment the examination of all the letters which Jane had written to her since her being in Kent. They contained no actual complaint, nor was there any revival of past occurrences, or any communication of present suffering. But in all, and in almost every line of each, there was a want of that cheerfulness which had been used to characterize her style. Which, proceeding from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself and kindly disposed towards everyone, had been scarcely ever clouded. Elizabeth noticed every sentence conveying the idea of uneasiness, and sadness at the thought that she would not be fortunate enough to add to her tally any time soon. And she was indeed frightfully horny, with an attention which it had hardly received on the first perusal.

         Mr. Darcy’s shameful boast of what misery he had been able to inflict, gave her a keener sense of her sister’s sufferings. It was some consolation to think that his visit to Rosings was likely to be fraught with pain for its duration, which was to end on the day after the next.  A still greater, that in less than a fortnight she should herself be with Jane again, and enabled to contribute to the recovery of her spirits, by all that affection could do. She resolved to commission one of the officers to at least service Jane with a round of wholesome and satisfying oral pleasure.

         She could not think of Darcy’s leaving Kent without remembering that his cousin was to go with him. But Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear that he had no intentions at all, and agreeable as he was, she did not mean to be unhappy about him. He had in fact made no move to proposition Elizabeth aside from pestering her to provide a number of protracted hand jobs with enough heartfelt desperation that she had not had the heart to refuse him.

          While settling this point, she was suddenly aroused by the sound of the door-bell, and her spirits were a little fluttered by the idea of its being Colonel Fitzwilliam himself. Who had once before called late in the evening to appeal for one of the aforementioned hand jobs, and might now come to inquire particularly after her and her availability. But this idea was soon banished, and her spirits were very differently affected, when to her utter amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the room. In a hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she was better. She answered him with cold civility, yet her mutinous quim quivered and her traitorous nipples beaded. As her gaze touched his full lips and white teeth and she remembered all the sensations the light suction of those lips and the bite of those teeth had procured. He sat down for a few moments, uncomfortably, and then getting up, walked about the room, his manhood on the very verge of protruding from his tight trousers, such was its vigour. Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began:

         “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. I want to have sex with you until you weep and scream and see God. My lust is so feverish that I am plagued by a perpetual erection, and one that will no longer take no for an answer. I implore you to allow me to deliver you your very first orgasm, and the second, and third, and so on. I vow to use every weapon in my unequalled sexual arsenal to bring you to the very heights of pleasure, and as often as you desire it.” Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, colored, moistened, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. He spoke well; but there were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed; and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than of pride. His sense of her inferiority –of its being a degradation –of the family obstacles which had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit.

          In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she could not be insensible to the compliment of such a big man’s affection. Though her intentions did not vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for the pain he was to receive, though she knew he had a high pain threshold. Till, roused to resentment by his subsequent language, she lost all compassion in anger. She tried, however, to compose herself to answer him with patience, when he should have done.

         He concluded with representing to her the strength of that attachment, which, in spite of all his endeavors, he had found impossible to conquer. With expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of his hand and his supersized penis. As he said this, she could easily see that he had no doubt of a favourable answer. He spoke of apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance expressed real security. Whether he was now unfastening his breeches to release his manhood because the constriction was becoming unbearable or because he believed Elizabeth hitherto desired to pounce upon it she did not know. Such a circumstance could only exasperate farther, and, when he held his epic member in his hand as though it were a kind of gift, the colour rose into her cheeks, and she said:

         “In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequalled they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you and remove my clothing entirely. At which point you would discern that even though I despise you I am concurrently about to combust with desire for you. But I cannot –I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain or blueballs to anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation.”

         Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantelpiece with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than surprise. He continued to hold his colossal cock, which refused to wilt despite her lack of encouragement. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and would not open his lips till he believed himself to have attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth’s feelings dreadful. At length, with a voice of forced calmness, he said:

         “And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.”

          “I might as well inquire,” replied she, “why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil? But I have other provocations. You know I have. Had not my feelings decided against you –had they been indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister? As much as I would like to take you up on your offer of –finally –providing me with multiple mind-numbing orgasms, marrying me and thereby sharing with me not only your vast wealth, your sensual domination and your giant schlong, I simply cannot abide the ruination of my sister’s happiness, nor indulge the orchestrator of her sexual dissatisfaction.”

         As she pronounced these words, Mr. Darcy changed colour; but the emotion was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she continued: “I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted there. You can dare not, you cannot deny, that you have been the principal, if not the only means of dividing them from each other. Of exposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, and the other to its derision for disappointed hopes and corporeal frustration, and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind.”

          She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was listening with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse. He even looked at her with a sexy smile of affected incredulity as he gently forced his still-rigid shaft back into his breeches, which he then took a moment to fasten, with some difficulty.

          “Can you deny that you have done it?” she repeated.

         With assumed tranquility he then replied: “I have no wish of denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your nubile sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards him I have been kinder than towards myself.”       

          Elizabeth disdained the appearance of noticing this civil reflection, but its meaning did not escape, nor was it likely to conciliate her.

         “But it is not merely this affair,” she continued, “on which my dislike is founded. Long before it had taken place my opinion of you was decided. Despite my body’s distracting response to your outrageous virility. Even now, amid the tempest of my anger, I am softened and slippery to my core at the sight of your unholy magnificence. Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received many months ago from Mr. Wickham. On this subject, what can you have to say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself? Or under what misrepresentation can you here impose upon others?”

          “You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns,” said Darcy in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened colour.

         “I only used my body to comfort his sorrows. Who that knows what his misfortunes have been, can help feeling an interest in him?”

          “His misfortunes!” repeated Darcy contemptuously; “yes, his misfortunes have been great indeed.”

         “And of your infliction,” cried Elizabeth with energy. “You have reduced him to his present state of poverty, comparative poverty. You have withheld the advantages, which you must know to have been designed for him. You have shunned his attempts to entice you. You have deprived the best years of his life, of that independence which was no less his due than his desert. You have done all this! And yet you can treat the mention of his misfortunes with contempt and ridicule.”

          “And this,” cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across the room, “is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed! But perhaps,” added he, stopping in his walk, and turning towards her, “these offences might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I with greater policy concealed my struggles and my arousal, which has been admittedly difficult to do, on account of my conspicuous unflagging want, for you. Ever since you revealed your delectably virginal intimates to me in a most tantalizing manner. And flattered you into the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination --by reason, by reflection, by every thing. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related, nor the obvious ferocity of my libido. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of the penile dimensions of every single man within a two-hundred-mile radius, at least –or of the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?”

         Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry every moment, and her need correspondingly grew more fiery. She wiped the back of her hand across her brow in an attempt to diffuse her desire to kneel before him, to release him from his tight jodhpurs, to take him into her mouth and taste his glory. Only just, she held herself steady; yet she tried to the utmost to speak with composure when she said, “You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.”

         She saw him start at this, but he said nothing, and she continued, “You could not have made me the offer of your hand nor your cock in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.”

          Again his astonishment was obvious; and he looked at her with an expression of mingled incredulity, rage, lust, and mortification. She went on, gaining momentum. Arguing with him was such a monumentous turn-on, she had a feeling that if he were to lay with her, now, and blow lightly on her arousal with his hot breath. As he had done once before, she would at long last experience some measure of sensual relief from his mere, subtle influence. She could scarcely imagine what sensations full penetration by that splendorous lovetool would inspire, and she felt almost fearful at the prospect. Not at all certain that her body would not betray her, and reach for him against her will. She held her fists at her sides in a desperate bid to prevent herself from ripping open her blouse and pleading for him to suckle her breasts and possess her in any and every way he desired, she used her words to keep him at bay.

         “From the very beginning, from the first moment I may almost say, of my acquaintance with you. Your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others. Were such as to form that ground-work of disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built so immoveable a dislike. And I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.”

         “You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”

         And with these words he hastily left the room, and Elizabeth heard him the next moment open the front door and quit the house.

         The tumult of her mind was now painfully great. She knew not how to support herself, and from actual weakness sat down and cried for half an hour. Her astonishment, as she reflected on what had passed, was increased by every review of it. That she should receive an offer of marriage from Mr. Darcy! That he should have been in love with her for so many months! So much in love as to wish to marry her in spite of all the objections which had made him prevent his friend’s

marrying her sister, and which must appear at least with equal force in his own case, was almost incredible! It was gratifying to have inspired unconsciously so strong an affection and such a roaring erection. But his pride, his abominable pride, his shameless avowal of what he had done with respect to Jane, his unpardonable assurance in acknowledging. Though he could not justify it, and the unfeeling manner in which he had mentioned Mr. Wickham, his cruelty towards whom. And refusal of his advances he had not attempted to deny, soon overcame the pity which the consideration of his attachment had for a moment excited.

          She continued in very agitating reflections, touching herself gently in the hopes that she might relieve some of the frustration Mr. Darcy had so insistently inspired. Yet she was unsuccessful in finding even a hint of satisfaction, till the sound of Lady Catherine’s carriage made her feel how unequal she was to encounter Charlotte’s observation, and hurried her away to her room.

 


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

          Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations which had at length closed her eyes. She could not yet recover from the surprise of what had happened. It was impossible to think of any thing else, and, totally indisposed for employment, she resolved soon after breakfast to indulge herself in air and exercise. She was proceeding directly to her favourite walk, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy’s sometimes coming there stopped her. And instead of entering the park, she turned up the lane which led her farther from the turnpike road. The park paling was still the boundary on one side, and she soon passed one of the gates into the ground.

         After walking two or three times along that part of the lane, she was tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at the gates and look into the park. The five weeks which she had now passed in Kent had made a great difference in the country, and every day was adding to the verdure of the early trees. She was on the point of continuing her walk, when she caught a glimpse of a gentleman within the sort of grove which edged the part. He was moving that way, and fearful of its being Mr. Darcy, she was directly retreating. But the person who advanced was now near enough to see her, and stepping forward with eagerness, pronounced her name. She had turned away, but on hearing herself called, though in a voice which proved it to be Mr. Darcy, she moved again towards the gate. He had by that time reached it also, and holding out a letter, which she instinctively took, said with a look of haughty composure.

         “I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?” –And then, with a slight bow, turn, was soon out of sight.

         With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity, Elizabeth opened the letter, and to her still increasing wonder, perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter paper, written quite through, in a very close hand. –The envelope itself was likewise full. –Pursuing her way along the lane, she then began it. It was dated from Rosings, at eight o’clock in the morning, and was as follows: --

         “Be not alarmed, Madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last night so disgusting to you. I write without any intention of paining you, or coming on to you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes, which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten. The effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion should have been spared, had not my character required it to be written and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand it of your justice.

         Two offences of a very different nature, and by no means of equal magnitude, you last night laid to my charge. The first mentioned was, that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I had detached Mr. Bingley from your sister with the assistance of a garden hose. And the other, that I had, in defiance of various claims, in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the immediate prosperity, and blasted the prospects of Mr. Wickham. Willfully and wantonly to have thrown off the companion of my youth, the acknowledged favourite boy toy of my father. A young man who had scarcely any other dependence than on our patronage. Who had been brought up to expect its exertion, would be a depravity to which the separation of two young persons, whose affection could be the growth of only a few weeks, could bear no comparison. But from the severity of that blame which was last night so liberally bestowed, respecting each circumstance. I shall hope to be in future secured, when the following account of my actions and their motives has been read. If, in the explanation of them which is due to myself, I am under the necessity of relating feelings which may be offensive to yours’s, I can only say that I am sorry. The necessity must be obeyed and farther apology would be absurd.

         I had not been long in Hertfordshire, before I saw, in common with others, that Bingley preferred your eldest sister to any other young woman in the country. Understandably so, for she is indeed a willing, wonton wench, possessing of an innocent neediness and a milky, flushed sexuality that I dare say would bring a lesser man than Bingley to his knees. But it was not till the evening of the orgy at Netherfield that I had any apprehension of his feeling a serious attachment. I had often seen him in love before, and God knows the man has had his share of one night stands. At that orgy, while I had the honour of fondling you. I was first made acquainted, by Sir William Lucas’s accidental information, that Bingley’s attentions to your sister had given rise not only to Bingley’s member, but to a general expectation of their marriage. He spoke of it as a certain event, of which the time alone could be undecided. From that moment I observed my friend’s behavior attentively; and I could then perceive that his partiality for Miss Bennet was beyond what I had ever witnessed in him. His hard-on was so fervent, he relayed, that it was indeed quite painful for him.

         Your sister I also watched. Her look and manners were open, cheerful, and engaging as ever. She removed her clothing before he had even asked her to do so, and offered her intimates to his mouth at his very first application and without playing up the expected bashful charade. Even without any symptom of peculiar regard, and I remained convinced from the evening’s scrutiny. That though she received his attentions with pleasure, climaxing rapturously several times and certainly inspiring his own pleasure, and repeatedly so, she did not invite them by any participation of sentiment. If you have not been mistaken here, I must have been in an error. Your superior knowledge of your sister must make the latter probable. If it be so, if I have been misled by such error, to inflict pain on her, your resentment has not been unreasonable. But I shall not scruple to assert that the serenity of your sister’s countenance and air was such as might have given the most acute observer a conviction. That however amiable her temper, however desirable her luscious breasts, her heart was not likely to be easily touched. That I was desirous of believing her indifferent is certain, but I will venture to say that my investigations and decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or fears. I did not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it; I believed it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason.

         My objections to the marriage were not merely those which I last night acknowledged to have required the utmost force of passion to put aside in my own case. The want of connection could not be so great an evil to my friend as to me. But there were other causes of repugnance. Causes which, though still existing, and existing to an equal degree in both instances, I had myself endeavoured to forget, because they were not immediately before me. These causes must be stated, though briefly. The situation of your mother’s family, though objectionable, was nothing in comparison of that total want of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly, betrayed by herself. By your three younger sisters, and occasionally even by your father. –Pardon me. It pains me to offend you. But amidst your concern for the defects of your nearest relations, and your displeasure at this representation of them. Let it give you consolation to consider that to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share of the like censure is praise no less generally bestowed on you and your eldest sister. Than it is honourable to the sense and disposition of both. Whilst your relations are indeed irritating as hell, you and Jane, principally due to the fact that you are both outrageously hot and for that reason your company is significantly less grating, are fortunate to escape my immediate disdain.

         I will only say farther that, from what passed that evening, my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and every inducement heightened, which could have led me before to preserve my friends from what I esteemed a most unhappy connection. –I endeavoured to remove your sister from Bingley’s rapt attentions before he inadvertently impregnated her. An outcome he came dangerously close to imposing not once but twice, towards the end of the evening, and thereby forever chaining himself to your exceedingly irritating brethren. He left Netherfield for London, on the day following, as you, I am certain, remember, with the design of soon returning.

         The part which I acted is now to be explained. His sisters’ uneasiness had been equally excited with my own; our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered. And, alike sensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we shortly resolved on joining him directly in London. –We accordingly went and there I readily engaged in the office of pointing out to my friend, the certain evils of such a choice. Like having to spend holidays with your total cow of a mother while erstwhile attempting to shoo your youngest sister’s overeager wandering hands away from one’s junk –she’s fifteen, for Chrissakes. I described, and enforced them earnestly. But, however this remonstrance might have staggered or delayed his determination, I do not suppose that it would ultimately have prevented the marriage. Had it not been seconded by the assurance, which I hesitated not in giving, of your sister’s indifference.

         She appeared ready, as it were, to receive him, yet one cannot know if her wetness was a result of his keen tongue or of her own meaningful arousal. He had before believed her to return his affection with sincere, if not with equal, regard. –But Bingley has great natural modesty, with a stronger dependence on my judgment than on his own. He is an amiable enough chap and indeed a valued friend, but it must be said that he has all the self-awareness of a horny toad. To convince him, therefore, that he had deceived himself, was no very difficult point. To persuade him against returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been given, was scarcely the work of a moment. I cannot blame myself for having done thus much.

         There is but one part of my conduct in the whole affair, on which I do not reflect with satisfaction. It is that I condescended to adopt the measures of art so far as to conceal from him your sister’s being in town. I knew it myself, as it was known to Miss Bingley, but her brother is even yet ignorant of it. That they might have met without ill consequence is, perhaps, probable; but his regard did not appear to me enough extinguished for him to see her without some danger of him being completely overcome with rampaging lust and taking her forcibly right there on the settee. Perhaps this concealment, this disguise, was beneath me. It is done, however, and it was done for the best. On this subject I have nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I have wounded your sister’s feelings, it was unknowingly done; and though the motives which governed me may to you very naturally appear insufficient, I have not yet learnt to condemn them. I am far too arrogant to admit that I might have acted in error, yet I feel my size more than makes up for it.

         With respect to that other, weightier accusation, of having injured Mr. Wickham, I can only refute it by laying before you the whole of his connection with my family. Of what he has particularly accused me, I am ignorant, although I suspect its nature –he has always been enamored by certain parts of my anatomy, as so many are, and understandably so. But of the truth of what I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity. Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years the management of all the Pemberley estates. Whose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service to him; and on George Wickham, who was his god-son, his kindness was therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and afterwards at Cambridge. Most important assistance, as his own father, always poor from the extravagance of his shopaholic wife, would have been unable to give him a gentleman’s education.

         My father was not only fond of this young man’s society, whose manners were always engaging. And who was always –and I mean always –open to any and every suggestion a body might throw at him, and there were many suggestions, believe you me. He had also the highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession, intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The vicious propensities the want of principle, which he was careful to guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape the observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself. Who had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy could not have. Here again I shall give you pain to what degree you only can tell. But whatever may be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham has created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding his real character. It adds even another motive. My excellent father died about five years ago; and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the last so steady –by then he had moved Wickham into his private chambers. That in his will he particularly recommended it to me to promote his advancement in the best manner that his profession might allow. And, if he took orders, desired that a valuable family living might be his as soon as it became vacant.

         There was also a legacy of one hundred thousand pounds. His own father did not long survive mine, and within half a year from these events Mr. Wickham wrote to inform me that, having finally resolved against taking orders. He hoped I should not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment by which he could not be benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying the law, and I must be aware that the interest of one hundred thousand pounds would be a very insufficient support therein, what with the cost of law school these days. I rather wished than believed him to be sincere; but, at any rate, was perfectly ready to accede to his proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman, he’s far too sexually active for that profession. Although, come to think of it, perhaps he would in actuality have fit in perfectly well, if details of what goes on behind closed doors in that sector are at all to be believed. The business was therefore soon settled. He resigned all claim to assistance in the church, were it possible that he could ever be in a situation to receive it, and accepted in return three hundred thousand pounds. All connection between us seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him to invite him to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town, I believe, he chiefly lived. But his studying the law was a mere pretense –he was at that time working as a none other than a gigolo –and being now free from all restraint, his life was a life of idleness, hedonism, and dissipation.

         For about three years I heard little of him; but on the decease of the incumbent of the living which had been designed for him, he applied to me again by letter for the presentation. His circumstances, he assured me, and I had no difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad. His pimp had left town in a hurry after numerous death threats and the rich heiress he had for a time connected himself with dropped him for a Greek shipping magnate. He had found the law a most unprofitable study, since he chooses repeatedly to represent the aging women whose very husbands he had helped to dispose of. And was now absolutely resolved on being ordained, hoping to get his kicks elsewhere, if I would present him to the living in question of which he trusted there could be little doubt. As he was well assured that I had no other person to provide for, and I could not have forgotten my revered father’s intentions. You will hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or for resisting every repetition of it. His resentment was in proportion to the distress of his circumstances and he was doubtless as violent in his abuse of me to others, as in his reproaches to myself. After this period, every appearance of acquaintance was dropped. How he lived I know not. But last summer he was again most painfully obtruded on my notice.

         I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold to any human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy. My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left to the guardianship of my mother’s nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and myself. About a year ago, she was taken from school, and an establishment formed for her in London. Last summer she went with the lady who presided over it, to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design. For there proved to have been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived. She turned out to be one of those aging wives whose attentions Wickham seemed to favour at that time. Partial as he was to their free flowing expense accounts, but whose account had since run dry no doubt due to his own expensive habits. She was therefore momentarily in need of a modest pay check and an ultra-swanky crashpad, which we possess several of. By her connivance and aid he so far recommended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a child. That she was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement.                                                                       She was then but fifteen, which must be her excuse; and after stating her imprudence, I am happy to add that I owed the knowledge of it to herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended elopement; and then Georgiana, unable to support the idea of grieving and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole to me. You may imagine what I felt and how I acted. I very nearly throttled Wickham to death with my bare hands. Regard for my sister’s credit and feelings prevented any public exposure, but I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately, and Mrs. Younge was of course removed from her charge, and sent first to my aunt, Lady de Bourgh. To be thoroughly shamed –and there can be no doubt as to the meticulousness and mercilessness of her technique –before being banished forevermore to the Scottish Highlands. I believe, where last I heard she had been abducted by a renegade clan of sadomasochistic skirt-wearing goat herders. Mr. Wickham’s chief object was undoubted my sister’s fortune, which is three hundred thousand pounds. But I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been complete indeed.

           This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in which we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner, under what form of falsehood, he has imposed on you; but his success is not, perhaps, to be wondered at. Ignorant as you previously were of every thing concerning either, detection could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly not in your inclination. You may possibly wonder why all this was not told you last night. But I was not then master enough of myself to know what could or ought to be revealed. My mind was additionally muddled by a zealous, libidinous rage over your refusal to allow me to bone you ruthlessly right then and there. For the truth of every thing here related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who from our near relationship and constant intimacy, and still more as one of the executors of my father’s will, has been unavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions. If your abhorrence of me should make my assertions valueless, you cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin; and that there may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavour to find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in the course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you.

FITZWILLIAM DARCY.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

          If Elizabeth, when Mr. Darcy gave her the letter, did not expect it to contain a renewal of his offers, she had formed no expectation at all of its contents. But such as they were, it may be well supposed how eagerly she went through them, and what a contrariety of emotion they excited. Her feelings as she read were scarcely to be defined. With amazement did she first understand that he believed any apology to be in his power; and steadfastly was she persuaded that he could have no explanation to give, which a just sense of shame would not conceal. With a strong prejudice against every thing he might say, she began his account of what had happened at Netherfield. She read, with an eagerness which hardly left her power of comprehension, and from impatience of knowing what the next sentence might bring, was incapable of attending to the sense of the one before her eyes. His belief of her sister’s insensibility, she instantly resolved to be false, and his account of the real, the worst objections to the match, made her too angry to have any wish of doing him justice. He expressed no regret for what he had done which satisfied her; his style was not penitent, but haughty. It was all pride and insolence, two of the qualities of his character, regrettably, that excited her most. She found herself to be disconcertingly aroused.

          But when this subject was succeeded by his account of Mr. Wickham, when she read, with somewhat clearer attention, a relation of events, which, if true, must overthrow every cherished opinion of his worth, and which bore so alarming an affinity to his own history of himself, her feelings were yet more acutely painful and more difficult of definition. Astonishment, apprehension, and even horror, oppressed her. She wished to discredit it entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, “This must be false! This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood!” --and when she had gone through the whole letter, though scarcely knowing any thing of the last page or two, put it hastily away, protesting that she would not regard it, that she would never look in it again.

         In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that could rest on nothing, she walked on; but it would not do. In half a minute the letter was unfolded again, and collecting herself as well as she could. She again began the mortifying perusal of all that related to Wickham, and commanded herself so far as to examine the meaning of every sentence. The account of his connection with the Pemberley family was exactly what he had related himself. The kindness of the late Mr. Darcy, though she had not before known the extent of the buggery and all its repercussions, agreed equally well with his own words. So far each recital confirmed the other; but when she came to the will, the difference was great.

         What Wickham had said of the living was fresh in her memory, and as she recalled his very words, it was impossible not to feel that there was gross duplicity on one side or the other. And, for a few moments, she flattered herself that her wishes did not err. But when she read, and re-read with the closest attention, the particulars immediately following of Wickham’s resigning all pretensions to the living, of his receiving, in lieu, so considerable a sum as three hundred thousand pounds, again was she forced to hesitate. After all, she knew only too well of his propensity towards wayward promiscuity, swinging both ways. And not only selling his body for less-than-substantial sums but also taking naughty pleasure in the exchange. He was to her direct knowledge as much of a money grubber as several members of her own family. She put down the letter, weighed every circumstance with what she meant to be impartiality --deliberated on the probability of each statement --but with little success. On both sides it was only assertion. Again she read on. But every line proved more clearly that the affair, which she had believed it impossible that any contrivance could so represent. As to render Mr. Darcy’s conduct in it less than infamous, was capable of a turn which must make him entirely blameless throughout the whole.

         The extravagance and general profligacy which he scrupled not to lay to Mr. Wickham’s charge, exceedingly shocked her; the more so, as she could bring no proof of its injustice. She had never heard of him before his entrance into the ----shire Militia, in which he had engaged at the persuasion of the young man, who, on meeting him accidentally in town, had there renewed a slight acquaintance. Of his former way of life, nothing had been known in Hertfordshire but what he told himself. As to his real character, had information been in her power, she had never felt a wish of enquiring. She had not thought to ask around to determine if any ladies or gentlemen within their circles or further afield had partaken in sexual exploits with him. She had truthfully suspected that several of them had –nor whether he had collected money for before, during or after the encounter. His countenance, voice, and manner had established him at once in the possession of every virtue. His member had been pleasantly smooth, most often firm when it needed to be, and of median length and girth, although she did recollect that his approach had tended toward the self-involved, and occasionally distracted. She tried to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished trait of integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the attacks of Mr. Darcy. Or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone for those casual errors, under which she would endeavour to class what Mr. Darcy had described as the idleness and vice of many years continuance. But no such recollection befriended her. She could see him instantly before her, in every charm of air and address. But she could remember no more substantial good than the general approbation of the neighbourhoods, and the regard which his social powers had gained him in the mess and behind the barracks.

         After pausing on this point a considerable while, she once more continued to read. But, alas! the story which followed, of his designs on Miss Darcy, received some confirmation from what had passed between Colonel Fitzwilliam and herself only the morning before. At last she was referred for the truth of every particular to Colonel Fitzwilliam himself --from whom she had previously received the information of his near concern in all his cousin’s affairs, and whose character she had no reason to question. At one time she had almost resolved on applying to him, but the idea was checked by the awkwardness of the application. Coupled with the knowledge that he would most likely beseech her for another hand job. Which she was not at present in the disposition to furnish. And at length wholly banished by the conviction that Mr. Darcy would never have hazarded such a proposal if he had not been well assured of his cousin’s corroboration.

         She perfectly remembered every thing that had passed in conversation between Wickham and herself in their first evening at Mr. Phillips’s. Many of his expressions were still fresh in her memory. She was now struck with the impropriety of such communications to a stranger, and wondered it had escaped her before. She saw the indelicacy of putting himself forward as he had done, and the inconsistency of his professions with his conduct. She remembered that he had boasted of having no fear of Mr. Darcy –that Mr. Darcy might leave the country, but that he should stand his ground. Yet he had avoided the Netherfield orgy the very next week. She remembered also, that till the Netherfield family had quitted the country, he had told his story to no one but herself; but that after their removal, it had been every where discussed. That he had then no reserves, no scruples in sinking Mr. Darcy’s character, though he had assured her that respect for the father would always prevent his exposing the son.

         How differently did every thing now appear in which he was concerned! His attentions to Miss King were now the consequence of views solely and hatefully mercenary. The mediocrity of her fortune proved no longer the moderation of his wishes, but his eagerness and desperation to grasp at any thing lest possibly be banished and meet a similarly unpleasant fate at the hands of a beastly and inbred population of Highlanders as Mrs. Younge. His behaviour to herself could now have had no tolerable motive. He had either been deceived with regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying his vanity by encouraging the preference which she believed she had most incautiously shewn.

         True, she had stroked his wiener without him even asking, but still; she had only been being polite, courteously offering her empathy to his plight in a suitably well-mannered way, as she had dutifully been taught to do. Every lingering struggle in his favour grew fainter and fainter; and in farther justification of Mr. Darcy, she could not but allow that Mr. Bingley, when questioned by Jane, had long ago asserted his blamelessness in the affair. That, proud and repulsive as were his manners, she had never, in the whole course of their acquaintance. An acquaintance which had latterly brought them much together, and given her a sort of intimacy with his ways and his bulk. Seen any thing that betrayed him to be unprincipled or unjust --any thing that spoke him of irreligious or immoral habits. That among his own connections he was esteemed and valued --that even Wickham had allowed him merit as a brother. That she had often heard him speak so affectionately of his sister as to prove him capable of some amiable feeling. That had his actions been what Wickham represented them, so gross a violation of every thing right could hardly have been concealed from the world. And that friendship between a person capable of it, and such an amiable man as Mr. Bingley, was incomprehensible.

         She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. --Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think, without feeling that she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, and absurd.                  

         “How despicably have I acted!” she cried. – “I, who have prided myself on my discernment! --I, who have valued myself on my abilities! Who have often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my vanity, in useless or blameable distrust. --How humiliating is this discovery! --Yet, how just a humiliation! --Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my folly –lust, possibly, but I am hardly to be blamed for that. --Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till this moment, I never knew myself.”

          From herself to Jane –from Jane to Bingley, her thoughts were in a line which soon brought to her recollection that Mr. Darcy’s explanation there had appeared very insufficient; and she read it again. Widely different was the effect of a second perusal. --How could she deny that credit to his assertions, in one instance, which she had been obliged to give in the other? --He declared himself to have been totally unsuspicious of her sister’s attachment; --and she could not help remembering what Charlotte’s opinion had always been. --Neither could she deny the justice of his description of Jane. –She felt that while Jane’s body had been suitably displayed, thoroughly exhibited, in fact, Jane’s feelings, though fervent, were little displayed, and that there was a constant complacency in her air and manner not often united with great sensibility.

          When she came to that part of the letter in which her family were mentioned, in terms of such mortifying yet merited reproach, her sense of shame was severe. The justice of the charge struck her too forcibly for denial, and the circumstances to which he particularly alluded, as having passed at the Netherfield orgy, and as confirming all his first disapprobation, could not have made a stronger impression on his mind than on hers. The compliment to herself and her sister was not unfelt; she could acknowledge, briefly, a small pang of jealousy, too, at Mr. Darcy’s description of Jane’s juiciness. Which she made an effort to abolish, remembering the offer of his gift, the taut rigidity of his überschlong upon their former encounter. The image soothed, but it could not console her for the contempt which had been thus self-attracted by the rest of her family. And as she considered that Jane’s disappointment had in fact been the work of her nearest relations. And reflected how materially the credit of both must be hurt by such impropriety of conduct, she felt depressed beyond any thing she had ever known before.

         After wandering along the lane for two hours, giving way to every variety of thought; re-considering events, determining probabilities, and reconciling herself, as well as she could. To a change so sudden and so important, fatigue, and a recollection of her long absence made her at length return home. And she entered the house with the wish of appearing cheerful as usual, and the resolution of repressing such reflections as must make her unfit for conversation. She was immediately told, that the two gentlemen from Rosings had each called during her absence. Mr. Darcy, only for a few minutes to take leave, but that Colonel Fitzwilliam had been sitting with them at least an hour, hoping for her return, and almost resolving to walk after her till she could be found, in the hopes that she could give him some quick relief. –Elizabeth could but just affect concern in missing him; she really rejoiced at it. Colonel Fitzwilliam was no longer an object, and she was tiring of his incessant requests for her nimble fingers to ‘play his instrument’, a twee reference that was indeed becoming somewhat bothersome. She could think only of her letter.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

         The two gentlemen left Rosings the next morning. Mr. Collins having been in waiting near the lodges, to make them his parting obeisance, was able to bring home the pleasing intelligence of their appearing in very good health. And in as tolerable spirits as could be expected, after the melancholy scene so lately gone through at Rosings. To Rosings he then hastened to console Lady Catherine and her daughter; and on his return brought back, with great satisfaction, a message from her ladyship, importing that she felt herself so dull as to make her very desirous of having them all to dine with her.

          Elizabeth could not see Lady Catherine without recollecting that, had she chosen it, she might by this time have been presented to her as her future niece. Nor could she think, without a smile, of what her ladyship’s indignation would have been. “What would she have said? --how would she have behaved?” were questions with which she amused herself.

         Their first subject was the domination of the Rosings party. – “I assure you, I feel it exceedingly,” said Lady Catherine; “I believe nobody feels the loss of friends so much as I do. But I am particularly attached to these young men; and know them to be so much attached to me! --They were excessively sorry to go! But so they always are. The dear colonel rallied his spirits tolerably till just at last; but Darcy seemed to feel it most acutely, more I think than last year. His attachment to Rosings, certainly increases.”

         Mr. Collins had a compliment, and an allusion to throw in here, which were kindly smiled on by the mother and daughter.

          Lady Catherine observed, after dinner, that Miss Bennet seemed out of spirits; and immediately accounting for it herself, by supposing that she did not like to go home again so soon, she added.

         “But if that is the case, you must write to your mother to beg that you may stay a little longer. Mrs. Collins will be very glad of your company. I am sure, and Mr. Collins to be sure, often gushes about your desirability and his enjoyment at stroking his small sausage in your presence. Or at least with the knowledge that you are but a closed door away from his eager yet unwelcome advances.”

         “I am much obliged to your ladyship for your kind invitation,” replied Elizabeth, “but it is not in my power to accept it. --I must be in town next Saturday.”

          “Why, at that rate, you will have been here only six weeks. I expected you to stay two months. I told Mrs. Collins so before you came. There can be no occasion for your going so soon. Mrs. Bennet could certainly spare you for another fortnight.”

          “But my father cannot. –He wrote last week to hurry my return. He is becoming overwhelmed by the idiocy of my mother and my three younger sisters, and desires the presence of a relation who is not quite so unrelentingly absurd.” “Oh! your father of course may spare you, if your mother can. --Daughters are never of so much consequence to a father. And if you will stay another month complete, it will be in my power to take one of you as far as London. For I am going there early in June, for a week; and as Dawson does not object to the Douche box, there will be very good room for one of you. Indeed, if the weather should happen to be cool, I should not object to taking you both, as you are neither of you large.”

         “You are all kindness, Madam X; but I believe we must abide by our original plan,” replied Elizabeth, addressing Lady Catherine as she had forcibly requested.

         Lady Catherine seemed resigned.

         “Mrs. Collins, you must send a manservant with them. Take Alejandro. I can spare him for a few days, since I have two new recruits who arrived last week and are proving to be not only most obliging but also quite energetic –Fernando and Bruno. I do so adore the well-hung young Spaniards; they are uncannily and naturally inclined to the ways and means of bondage and discipline. Now where was I? oh, yes: You know I always speak my mind, and I cannot bear the idea of two young women travelling post by themselves. It is highly improper, not to mention a waste of an opportunity. Why not enjoy your travels, I always say? You must contrive to send somebody. I have the greatest dislike in the world to that sort of thing. –Young women should always be properly guarded and attended, according to their situation in life, and the availability young men on hand. When my niece Georgiana went to Ramsgate last summer, I made a point of her having two manservants go with her –and believe you me, she thanked me for it. –Miss Darcy, the daughter of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, and Lady Anne, could not have appeared with propriety in a different manner. --I am excessively attentive to all those things. You must send Alejandro with the young ladies, Mrs. Collins. I am glad it occurred to me to mention it; for it would really be discreditable to you to let them go alone.”

         “My uncle is to send a servant for us.”

         “Oh! --Your uncle! –He keeps a manservant or two as well, does he?” she winked. “—I am very glad you have somebody who thinks of those things. Where shall you change horses? --Oh! Bromley, of course. --If you mention my name at the Beatings, you will be attended to.”

         Lady Catherine had many other questions to ask respecting their journey, and as she did not answer them all herself, attention was necessary. Which Elizabeth believed to be lucky for her, or, with a mind so occupied, she might have forgotten where she was. Reflection must be reserved for solitary hours; whenever she was alone, she gave way to it as the greatest relief. And not a day went by without a solitary walk, in which she might indulge in all the delight of unpleasant recollections.

          Mr. Darcy’s letter, she was in a fair way of soon knowing by heart. She studied every sentence: and her feelings towards its writer were at times widely different. When she remembered the style of his address, she was still full of indignation. When she recollected the impressiveness and invitation of his megatool, gripped so intently and with such clearly outlined designs, she grew damp and wanting. But when she considered how unjustly she had condemned and upbraided him, her anger was turned against herself; and his disappointed feelings became the object of compassion. His attachment excited gratitude, his general character respect; but she could not approve him. Nor could she for a moment repent her refusal, or feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again. In her own past behaviour, there was a constant source of vexation and regret; and in the unhappy defects of her family a subject of yet heavier chagrin. They were hopeless of remedy.

          Her father, contented with laughing at them and availing himself to barely-of-age callgirls, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters. Her mother, with manners so far from right herself, was entirely insensible of the evil. Elizabeth had frequently united with Jane in an endeavour to check the imprudence of Catherine and Lydia. But while they were supported by their mother’s indulgence, what chance could there be of improvement? Catherine, weak-spirited, irritable, and completely under Lydia’s guidance, had been always affronted by their advice. Lydia, self-willed and careless, young, nubile and perpetually half-clad, would scarcely give them a hearing. They were ignorant, idle, naked and vain. While there was an officer in Meryton, they would flirt with him at the very least, more likely offering their pink-lipped mouths to him, allowing him to use their bodies, possibly both at once, to his utmost pleasure. And while Meryton was within a walk of Longbourn, they would be going there for ever.

          Anxiety and sexual frustration on Jane’s behalf was another prevailing concern, and Mr. Darcy’s explanation, by restoring Bingley to all her former good opinion, heightened the sense of what Jane had lost. His affection was proved to have been sincere, and his conduct cleared of all blame, unless any could attach to the implicitness of his confidence in his friend. How grievous then was the thought that, of a situation so desirable in every respect, so replete with advantage and satisfaction, so promising for happiness, Jane had been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family!

`        When to these recollections was added the development of Wickham’s character, it may be easily believed that the happy spirits which had seldom been depressed before, were now so much affected as to make it almost impossible for her to appear tolerably cheerful.

         Their engagements at Rosings were as frequent during the last week of her stay as they had been at first. The very last evening was spent there; and her Ladyship again enquired minutely into the particulars of their journey, gave them directions as to the best method of packing, and ensured Alejandro was rested and briefed. She was so urgent on the necessity of unbuttoning and placing gowns in the only right way, that Maria thought herself obliged, on her return, to undo all the work of the morning. Remove her undergarments, and pluck, primp and prepare herself afresh.

         When they parted, Madame X, with great condescension, wished them a good journey, and invited them to come to Hunsford again next year; and Miss de Bourgh exerted herself so far as to curtsey and hold out her whip to both.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

         On Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr. Collins met for breakfast a few minutes before the others appeared; and he took the opportunity of paying the parting civilities which he deemed indispensably necessary.

          “I know not, Miss Elizabeth,” said he, “whether Mrs. Collins has yet expressed her sense of your kindness in coming to us, but I am very certain you will not leave the house without receiving her thanks for it. The favour of your company has been much felt, I assure you. We know how little there is to tempt any one to our humble abode. Our plain manner of living, our small rooms, and few domestics, and the little we see of the world, must make Hunsford extremely dull to a young lady like yourself. But I hope you will believe us grateful for the condescension, and that we have done every thing in our power to prevent your spending your time unpleasantly.”

          Elizabeth was eager with her thanks and assurances of happiness. She had spent six weeks with great enjoyment; and the pleasure of being with Charlotte, and the kind attentions she had received, must make her feel the obliged. Mr. Collins was gratified; and with a more smiling solemnity replied.

         “It gives me the greatest pleasure to hear that you have passed your time not disagreeably. We have certainly done our best; and most fortunately having it in our power to introduce you to very superior society, and, from our connection with Rosings, the frequent means of varying the humble home scene. I think we may flatter ourselves that your Hunsford visit cannot have been entirely irksome. Our situation with regard to Lady Catherine’s family is indeed the sort of extraordinary advantage and blessing which few can boast. You see on what a footing we are. You see how continually we are engaged, beaten, and pleasured there. In truth I must acknowledge that, with all the disadvantages of this humble parsonage, I should not think any one abiding in it an object of compassion while they are sharers of our intimacy at Rosings.”

         Words were insufficient for the elevation of his feelings or his privates; and he was obliged to walk about the room, while Elizabeth tried to unite civility and truth in a few short sentences.

         “You may, in fact, carry a very favourable report of us into Hertfordshire, my dear cousin. I flatter myself, at least, that you will be able to do so. Lady Catherine’s great attentions to Mrs. Collins you have been a daily witness of; and altogether I trust it does not appear that your friend has drawn an unfortunate --; but on this point it will be as well to be silent. Only let me assure you, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that I can from my heart most cordially wish you equal felicity in marriage. My dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of thinking. There is in every thing a most remarkable resemblance of character and ideas between us. And, after a few initial reservations, Charlotte has come to enjoy the rather darker sexual arts quite as much as I do, if not more, upon occasion, I would dare to conjecture. We seem to have been designed for each other.”

          Elizabeth could safely say that it was a great happiness where that was the case, and with equal sincerity could add that she firmly believed and rejoiced in his domestic comforts. She was not sorry, however, to have the recital of them interrupted by the entrance of the lady from whom they sprung. Poor Charlotte! --it was melancholy to leave her to such society! --But she had chosen it with her eyes open; and though evidently regretting that her visitors were to go, she did not seem to ask for compassion. Her home and her housekeeping, her parish and her regular dalliances with Peabody, the upsized hottie she had rather come to rely on since her own marital provisions in that regard were decidedly limited, and all their dependent concerns, had not yet lost their charms. And it was true that Elizabeth had witnessed with her own eyes Charlotte’s obviously satisfactory diversion –inflicted. Though it was through the administration of not inconsiderable pain –at the hands of Madame X upon more than one occasion.

         At length the chaise arrived, the trunks were fastened on, the manservant inspected and caressed encouragingly, the parcels placed within, and it was pronounced to be ready. After an affectionate parting between the friends, Elizabeth was attended to the carriage by Mr. Collins. As they walked down the garden, he was commissioning her with his best respects to all her family. Not forgetting to grope her gratuitously while offering his thanks for the kindness he had received at Longbourn in the winter, and his compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though unknown. He then handed her in, Maria followed, and the door was on the point of being closed. When he suddenly reminded them, with some consternation, that they had hitherto forgotten to leave any message for the ladies at Rosings.

         “But,” he added, “you will of course wish to have your humble respects delivered to them, with your grateful thanks for their kindness to you while you have been here.”

          Elizabeth made no objection; --the door was then allowed to be shut, and the carriage drove off.

         “Good gracious!” cried Maria, after a few minutes silence, “it seems but a day or two since we first came! --and yet how many things have happened!”

         “A great many indeed,” said her companion with a sigh. “We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there twice! --How much I shall have to tell!”

         Elizabeth privately added, “And how much I shall have to conceal.”

         Their journey was performed without much conversation, or any alarm; and within four hours of their leaving Hunsford, they reached Mr. Gardiner’s house, where they were to remain a few days.

         Jane looked well, and Elizabeth had little opportunity of studying her spirits, amidst the various engagements which the kindness of her aunt had reserved for them. But Jane was to go home with her, and at Longbourn there would be leisure enough for observation.

          It was not without an effort, meanwhile, that she could wait even for Longbourn, before she told her sister of Mr. Darcy’s proposals. To know that she had the power of revealing what would so exceedingly astonish Jane. And must, at the same time, so highly gratify whatever of her own vanity she had not yet been able to reason away. Was such a temptation to openness as nothing could have conquered but the state of indecision in which she remained as to the extent of what she should communicate. Her fear, if she once entered on the subject, of being hurried into repeating something of Bingley which might only grieve her sister farther.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

         It was the second week in May in which the three young ladies set out together from Gracechurch-street for the town of ----in Hertfordshire; and, as they drew near the appointed inn where Mr. Bennet’s carriage was to meet them, they quickly perceived, in token of the coachman’s punctuality, both Kitty and Lydia looking out of a dining room upstairs. These two girls had been above an hour in the place, happily employed in visiting an opposite lingerie shop, enticing the sentinel on guard by parading the wares on offer topless, and dressing a salad while stroking a cucumber.

          After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly displayed a table set out with such cold meat as an inn larder usually affords, exclaiming, “Is not this nice? Is not this an agreeable surprise?”

          “And we mean to treat you all,” added Lydia; “but you must lend us the money, for we have just spent ours at the shop out there.” Then shewing her purchases: “Look here, I have bought this teddy and matching panties. I do not think it is very pretty nor anything near revealing enough; but I thought I might as well buy it as not. I shall pull it to pieces as soon as I get home, and see if I can make it up any better.”

          And when her sisters abused it as ugly, she added, with perfect unconcern, “Oh! but there were two or three much uglier in the shop; and when I have bought some prettier black lace to trim it with fresh, and adjusted it to expose my intimates suitably, I think it will be very tolerable. Besides, it will not much signify what one wears this summer after the ----shire have left Meryton, and they are going in a fortnight.”

         “Are they indeed?” cried Elizabeth, with the greatest satisfaction.

          “They are going to be encamped near Brighton; and I do so want papa to take us all there for the summer! It would be such a delicious scheme, and I dare say would hardly cost any thing at all. I could earn substantial coinage by offering my ever-expanding repertoire of wicked and sensuous pleasures to the entire regiment. The officers cannot seem to get enough! Mamma would like to go too, of all things! Only think what a miserable summer else we shall have!”

         “Yes,” thought Elizabeth, “that would be a delightful scheme, indeed, and completely do for us at once. Good Heaven! Brighton, and a whole campful of soldiers, to us, who have been overset already by one poor regiment of militia, and the monthly orgies of Meryton.”

          “Now I have got some news for you,” said Lydia, as they sat down to table. “What do you think? It is excellent news, capital news, and about a certain person that we all like.”

         Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, and the manservant was told that he need not stay. Lydia laughed, and said, “Aye, that is just like your formality and discretion. You thought the manservant must not hear, as if he cared! I dare say he often hears worse things said than I am going to say. But he is an ugly fellow! I am glad he is gone. I never saw such a thick prick in my life. Well, but now for my news: it is about dear Wickham; too good for the manservant, is not it? There is no danger of Wickham’s marrying Mary King. There’s for you! She is gone down to her uncle at Liverpool; gone to stay. Wickham is safe.”

          “And Mary King is safe!” added Elizabeth; “safe from a connection imprudent as to fortune.”

         “She is a great fool for going away, if she liked him.”

         “But I hope there is no strong attachment on either side,” said Jane.

         “I am sure there is not on his. I will answer for it he never cared three straws about her. Who could about such a nasty little freckled thing?”

         Elizabeth was shocked to think that, however incapable of such coarseness of expression herself, the coarseness of the sentiment was little other than her own breast had formerly harbored and fancied liberal!

         As soon as all had ate, and the elder ones paid, the carriage was ordered; and, after some contrivance, the whole party, with all their boxes, workbags, and parcels, and the unwelcome addition of Kitty’s and Lydia’s purchases, were seated in it.

          “How nicely we are crammed in!” cried Lydia. “I am glad I bought my lingerie, if it is only for the fun of having another pair of crotchless panties! Well, now let us be quite comfortable and snug, and talk and laugh all the way home. And in the first place, let us hear what has happened to you all, since you went away. Have you seen any pleasant men? Have you had any flirting? Jane, have you added to your tally? Lizzy, have you at long last achieved orgasm? I was in great hopes that one of you would have got a husband before you came back. Jane will be quite an old maid soon, I declare, at almost three and twenty. Lord, how ashamed I should be of not being married before three and twenty! My aunt Phillips wants you so to get husbands, you can’t think. She says Lizzy had better have taken Mr. Collins; but I do not think there would have been any fun in it. So tiny! Lord! how I should like to be married before any of you; and then I would chaperone you about to all the orgies. Dear me! we had such a good piece of fun the other day at Colonel Forster’s. Kitty and me were to spend the day there, and Mrs. Forster promised to have a little dalliance in the evening (by the bye, Mrs. Forster and me are such friends!). And so she asked the two Harringtons to come, but Harriet was ill, so Pen was forced to come by herself; and then, what do you think we did? Mrs. Forster, and Kitty and me, except my aunt, for we were forced to borrow one of her gowns; and you cannot imagine how well he looked! When Denny, and Wickham, and Pratt, and two or three more of the men came in, they did not know him in the least. Lord! how I laughed! and so did Mrs. Forster. I thought I should have died. And that made the men suspect something, and then they soon found out what was the matter.”

         With such kind of histories of their parties and good jokes did Lydia, assisted by Kitty’s hints and additions, endeavour to amuse her companions all the way to Longbourn. Elizabeth listened as little as she could, but there was no escaping the frequent mention of Wickham’s name.

         Their reception at home was most kind. Mrs. Bennet rejoiced to see Jane in undiminished beauty; and more than once during dinner did Mr. Bennet say voluntarily to Elizabeth,

         “I am glad you are come back, Lizzy.”

         Their party in the dining-room was large, for almost all the Lucases came to meet Maria and hear the news: and various were the subjects which occupied them. Lady Lucas was enquiring of Maria, across the table, after the welfare and poultry of her eldest daughter. Mrs. Bennet was doubly engaged, on one hand collecting an account of the present fashions from Jane, who sat some way below her, and on the other, retailing them all to the younger Miss Lucases. And Lydia, in a voice rather louder than any other person’s, was enumerating the various pleasures of the morning to any body who would hear her.

          “Oh! Mary,” said she, “I wish you had gone with us, for we had such fun! As we went along, Kitty and me drew up all the blinds, and pretended there was nobody in the coach, flashing our breasts to several passersby. I should have gone so all the way, if Kitty had not been sick. And when we got to the George, I do think we behaved very handsomely, for we treated the other three with the nicest cold luncheon in the world, and if you would have gone, we would have treated you too. And then when we came away it was such fun! I thought we never should have got into the coach. I was ready to die of laughter. And then we were so merry all the way home! We talked and laughed so loud, that any body might have heard us ten miles off!”

         To this, Mary very gravely replied, “Far be it from me, my dear sister, to depreciate such pleasures. They would doubtless be congenial with the generality of female minds. But I confess they would have no charms for me. I should infinitely prefer a rousing session of debasement.”

          But of this answer Lydia heard not a word. She seldom listened to any body for more than half a minute, and never attended to Mary at all.

         In the afternoon Lydia was urgent with the rest of the girls to walk to Meryton, and see how every body went on; but Elizabeth steadily opposed the scheme. It should not be said, that the Miss Bennets could not be at home half a day before they were in pursuit of the officers. There was another reason too, for her opposition. She dreaded seeing Wickham again, and was resolved to avoid it as long as possible. The comfort to her of the regiment’s approaching removal was indeed beyond expression. In a fortnight they were to go, and once gone, she hoped there could be nothing more to plague her on his account.

         She had not been many hours at home, before she found that the Brighton scheme, of which Lydia had given them a hint at the inn, was under frequent discussion between her parents. Elizabeth saw directly that her father had not the smallest intention of yielding. But his answers were at the same time so vague and equivocal, that her mother, though often disheartened, had never yet despaired of succeeding at last. If her elder daughters insisted on being prudes, she held high hopes that her youngest would soon and at long last be well and truly impregnated by an officer.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

       Elizabeth’s impatience to acquaint Jane with what had happened could no longer be overcome. And at length resolving to suppress every particular in which her sister was concerned, and preparing her to be surprised, she related to her the next morning the chief of the scene between Mr. Darcy and herself.

       Miss Bennet’s astonishment was soon lessened by the strong sisterly partiality which made any admiration of Elizabeth appear perfectly natural. All surprise was shortly lost in other feelings. She was sorry that Mr. Darcy should have delivered his sentiments in a manner so little suited to recommend them. But still more was she grieved for the unhappiness which her sister’s refusal must have given him.

       “His being so sure of succeeding, was wrong,” said she; “and certainly ought not to have appeared; but consider how much it must increase his disappointment. To have offered his penis to you in that manner, only to have it declined; it must have been very dissatisfying for him, not to mention painful.”

       “Indeed,” replied Elizabeth, “I am heartily sorry for him; but he has other feelings which will probably soon drive away his regard for me. You do not blame me, however, for refusing him?”

       “Blame you! Oh, no.”

       “But you blame me for having spoken so warmly of Wickham.”

        “No --I do not know that you were wrong in saying what you did.”

       “But you will know it, when I have told you what happened the very next day.”

        She then spoke of the letter, repeating the whole of its contents as far as they concerned George Wickham. What a stroke was this for poor Jane! Who would willingly have gone through the world without believing that so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind, as was here collected in one individual. Nor was Darcy’s vindication, though grateful to her feelings, capable of consoling her for such discovery. Most earnestly did she labour to prove the probability of error, and seek to clear one without involving the other.

       “This will not do,” said Elizabeth. “You never will be able to make both of them good for any thing. Take your choice, but you must be satisfied with only one. There is but such a quantity of merit between them; just enough to make one good sort of man; and of late it has been shifting about pretty much. For my part, I am inclined to believe it all Mr. Darcy’s, but you shall do as you chose.”

       It was some time, however, before a smile could be extorted from Jane.

        “I do not know when I have been more shocked,” said she. “Wickham so very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr. Darcy! Dear Lizzy, only consider what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! To be so aroused and get no relief! And with the knowledge of your ill opinion too! And having to relate such a thing of his sister! It is really too distressing. I am sure you must feel it so.”

       “Oh! no, my regret and compassion are all done away by seeing you so full of both. Surely your own sexual unfulfilment by this stage must rival even Mr. Darcy’s. To have achieved no less than seven climaxes and over such a short duration, then to only have the source of such pleasure, the possibility of adding to the tally irrevocably removed is nothing short of tragic. I know you will do him such ample justice, that I am growing every moment more unconcerned and indifferent. Your profusion makes me saving; and if you lament over him much longer, my heart will be as light as a feather.”

       “Poor Wickham; there is such an expression of goodness in his countenance! such an openness and gentleness in his manner. Such an excitement to his admittedly midsized but undeniably well-proportioned cock.”

       “There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it.”

        “I never thought Mr. Darcy so deficient in the appearance of it as you used to do.”

        “And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a dislike to him, without any reason. It is such a spur to one’s genius, such an opening for wit to have a dislike of that kind. One may be continually abusive without saying any thing just; but one cannot be always laughing at a man without now and then stumbling on something witty. And one cannot be entirely dismissive of the bounteousness of his manhood and the promised skill of his delivery without acknowledging a rampant, intense, delectable anticipation in one’s nether regions.”      “Lizzy when you first read that letter, I am sure you could not treat the matter as you do now.”

        “Indeed I could not. I was uncomfortable enough, and aroused beyond belief. I was very uncomfortable; I may say unhappy. And with no one to speak to of what I felt, no Jane to comfort me and say that I had not been so very weak and vain and nonsensical as I knew I had! Oh! how I wanted you!”

       “How unfortunate that you should have used such very strong expressions in speaking of Wickham to Mr. Darcy, for now they do appear wholly undeserved.”     “Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness is a most natural consequence of the prejudices I had been encouraging. There is one point on which I want your advice. I want to be told whether I ought, or ought not, to make our acquaintance in general understand Wickham’s character.”

       Miss Bennet paused a little and then replied, “Surely there can be no occasion for exposing him so dreadfully. What is your own opinion?”

       “That it ought not to be attempted. Mr. Darcy has not authorized me to make his communication public. On the contrary, every particular relative to his sister was meant to be kept as much as possible to myself; and if I endeavour to undeceive people as to the rest of his conduct, who will believe me? The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is so violent, that it would be the death of half the good people in Meryton to attempt to place him in an amiable light. I am not equal to it. Wickham will soon be gone; and therefore it will not signify to anybody here, what he really is. Sometime hence it will be all found out, and then we may laugh at their stupidity in not knowing it before. At present I will say nothing about it.”        “You are quite right. To have his errors made public might ruin him for ever. He is now perhaps sorry for what he has done, and anxious to re-establish a character. We must not make him desperate.”

        The tumult of Elizabeth’s mind was allayed by this conversation. She had got rid of two of the secrets which had weighed on her for a fortnight, and was certain of a willing listener in Jane, whenever she might wish to talk again of either. But there was still something lurking behind, of which prudence forbade the disclosure. She dared not relate the other half of Mr. Darcy’s letter, nor explain to her sister how sincerely she had been valued and by his friend, that Bingley was as desirous for Jane as a prize-winning hound for a mongrel bitch in heat. Here was knowledge in which no one could partake. She was sensible that nothing less than a perfect understanding between the parties could justify her in throwing off this last encumbrance of mystery. “And then,” said she, “if that very improbable event should ever take place, I shall merely be able to tell what Bingley may tell in a much more agreeable manner himself. The liberty of communication cannot be mine till it has lost all its value!”

        She was now, on being settled at home, at leisure to observe the real state of her sister’s spirits. Jane was not happy. She still cherished a very tender affection for Bingley, touching herself regularly at the memory of his lavish attentions. Having never even fancied herself in love before, her regard had all the warmth of first attachment, and, from her age and disposition, greater steadiness than first attachments often boast. And so fervently did she value his remembrance, and prefer him to every other man, that all her good sense, and all her attention to the feelings of her friends, were requisite to check the indulgence of those regrets which must have been injurious to her own health and their tranquility.

       “Well, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet one day, “what is your opinion now of this sad business of Jane’s? For my part, I am determined never to speak of it again to anybody. I told my sister Phillips so the other day. But I cannot find out that Jane saw any thing of him in London. Well, he is a very undeserving young man --and I do not suppose there is the least chance in the world of her ever getting him now. There is no talk of his coming to Netherfield again in the summer; and I have enquired of every body, too, who is likely to know.”

        “I do not believe that he will ever live at Netherfield any more.”

       “Oh, well! it is just as he chooses. Nobody wants him to come. Though I shall always say that he used my daughter extremely ill; and if I was her, I would not have put up with it. Well, my comfort is, I am sure Jane will die of a broken heart, and then he will be sorry for what he has done.”

       But as Elizabeth could not receive comfort from any such expectation, she made no answer.

        “Well, Lizzy,” continued her mother soon afterwards, “and so the Collinses live very comfortable, do they? Well, well, I only hope it will last. And what sort of table do they keep? Charlotte is an excellent manager, I dare say. If she is half as sharp as her mother, she is saving enough. There is nothing extravagant in their housekeeping, I dare say.”

       “No, nothing at all.”

       A great deal of good management, depend upon it. Yes, yes. They will take care not to outrun their income. They will never be distressed for money. Well, much good may it do them! And so, I suppose, they often talk of having Longbourn when your father is dead. They look upon it quite as their own, I dare say, whenever that happens.”

       “It was a subject which they could not mention before me.”

       “No. It would have been strange if they had. But I make no doubt, they often talk of it between themselves. Well, if they can be easy with an estate that is not lawfully their own, so much the better. I should be ashamed of having one that was only entailed on me.”


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

          The first week of their return was soon gone. The second began. It was the last of the regiment’s stay in Meryton, and all the young ladies in the neighborhood were drooping apace. The dejection was almost universal. The elder Miss Bennets alone were still able to eat, drink, and sleep, and pursue the usual course of their employments. Very frequently were they reproached for this insensibility by Kitty and Lydia, whose own misery was extreme, and who could not comprehend such hard-heartedness in any of the family.

         “Good Heaven! What is to become of us! What are we to do without the presence of such erect entertainment!” would they often exclaim in the bitterness of woe. “How can you be smiling so, Lizzy?”

         Their affectionate mother shared all their grief; she remembered what she had herself endured on a similar occasion, five and twenty years ago.

         “I am sure,” said she, “I cried for two days together when Colonel Millar’s regiment went away. I thought I should have broken my heart.”

          “I am sure I shall break mine,” said Lydia.

         “If one could but go to Brighton!” observed Mrs. Bennet.

         “Oh, yes! --if one could but go to Brighton! But papa is so disagreeable.”

          “A little sea-bathing would set me up for ever.”

          “And my aunt Phillips is sure it would do me a great deal of good,” added Kitty.

          Such were the kind of lamentations resounding perpetually through Longbourn-house. Elizabeth tried to be diverted by them; but all sense of pleasure was lost in shame. She felt anew the justice of Mr. Darcy’s objections; and never had she before been so much disposed to pardon his interference in the views of his friend. But the gloom of Lydia’s prospect was shortly cleared away; for she received an invitation from Mrs. Forster, the wife of the Colonel of the regiment, to accompany her to Brighton. This invaluable friend was a very young woman, and very lately married. A resemblance in good humour, good, spirits, and a propensity towards extreme promiscuity had recommended her and Lydia to each other. Out of their three months’ acquaintance they had been intimate two. Even taking the levels of intimacy so far as to engage in occasional experimentation with pleasuring each other when the officers were otherwise engaged, and with some success.

          The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, her adoration of Mrs. Forster, the delight of Mrs. Bennet, and the mortification of Kitty, are scarcely to be described. Wholly inattentive to her sister’s feelings, Lydia flew about the house in restless ecstasy, calling for everyone’s congratulations, and laughing and talking with more violence than ever. Whilst the luckless Kitty continued in the parlour repining at her fate in terms as unreasonable as her accent was peevish.

         “I cannot see why Mrs. Forster should not ask me as well as Lydia,” said she, “though I am not her particular friend and not so willing to take familiarity quite so liberally and wantonly as Lydia is wont to do. I have just as much right to be asked as she has, and more too, for I am two years older.”

         In vain did Elizabeth attempt to reason, and Jane to make her resigned. As for Elizabeth herself, this invitation was so far from exciting in her the same feelings as in her mother and Lydia, that she considered it as the death-warrant of all possibility of common sense for the latter. And detestable as such a step must make her were it known, she could not help secretly advising her father not to let her go. She represented to him all the improprieties of Lydia’s general behaviour, the little advantage she could derive from the friendship of such a woman as Mrs. Forster, and the probability of her being yet more imprudent with such a companion at Brighton, where the temptations must be greater than at home. He heard her attentively, and then said.

         “Lydia will never be easy till she has exposed herself in some public place or other, and we can never expect her to do it with so little expense or inconvenience to her family as under the present circumstances.”

         “If you were aware,” said Elizabeth, “of the very great disadvantage to us all, which must arise from the public notice of Lydia’s unguarded and imprudent manner. Nay, which has already arisen from it, I am sure you would judge differently in the affair.”

          “Already arisen!” repeated Mrs. Bennet. “What, has she frightened away some of your lovers? Poor little Lizzy! But do not be cast down. Such squeamish youths as cannot bear to be connected with a little absurdity are not worth a regret. Come, let me see the list of the pitiful fellows who have been kept aloof by Lydia’s folly.”

         “Indeed you are mistaken. I have no such injuries to resent. It is not of peculiar, but of general evils, which I am now complaining. Our importance, our respectability in the world, must be affected by the wild volatility, the assurance and disdain of all restraint which mark Lydia’s character. Excuse me --for I must speak plainly. If you, my dear father, will not take the trouble of checking her exuberant spirits, and of teaching her that her present pursuits are not to be the business of her life, she will soon be beyond the reach of amendment. Her character will be fixed, and she will, at sixteen, be the most determined flirt that ever made herself and her family ridiculous. A flirt, too, in the worst and meanest degree of flirtation; without any attraction beyond youth and a tolerable person. And from the ignorance and emptiness of her mind, wholly unable to ward off any portion of that universal contempt which her rage for admiration will excite. In this danger Kitty is also comprehended. She will follow wherever Lydia leads. --Vain, ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled! Oh! my dear father, can you suppose it possible that they will not be censured and despised wherever they are known, and that their sisters will not be often involved in the disgrace?”

         Mr. Bennet saw that her whole heart was in the subject; and affectionately taking her hand, said in reply.

         “Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever you and Jane are known, you must be respected and valued; and you will not appear to less advantage for having a couple of --or I may say, three --very silly sisters. We shall have no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not go to Brighton. Let her go then. Colonel Forster is a sensible man, and will keep her out of any real mischief; and she is luckily too poor to be an object of prey to any body. At Brighton she will be of less importance, even as a common tart, than she has been here. Once they have had their way with her, the officers will find women better worth their notice. Let us hope, therefore, that her being there may teach her her own insignificance. At any rate, she cannot grow many degrees worse without authorizing us to lock her up for the rest of her life.”

         With this answer Elizabeth was forced to be content; but her own opinion continued the same, and she left him disappointed and sorry. It was not in her nature, however, to increase her vexations by dwelling on them. She was confident of having performed her duty, and to fret over unavoidable evils, or augment them by anxiety, was no part of her disposition.

         Had Lydia and her mother known the substance of her conference with her father, their indignation would hardly have found expression in their united volubility. In Lydia’s imagination, a visit to Brighton comprised every possibility of earthly happiness. She saw, with the creative eye of fancy, the streets of that gay bathing place covered with muscular, sweaty, hard-bodied officers. She saw herself the object of attention to tens and to scores of them at present unknown, rubbing themselves against her naked body, dirtying her, poking themselves into her every orifice forcefully, delightfully, driving her to heights of pleasure she had never known. She saw all the glories of the camp; its tents stretched forth in beauteous uniformity of lines, crowded with the young, the hetero, the bisexual and the gay, and dazzling with scarlet. And to complete the view, she saw herself seated cool and nude beneath a tent. Her legs opened just so to reveal her waxed, blushing quim, her breasts swollen and receptive, tenderly flirting with at least six officers at once, touching them, being touched by them in all manner of impropriety.

          Had she known that her sisters sought to tear her from such prospects and such realities as these, what would have been her sensations? They could have been understood only by her mother, who might have felt nearly the same. Lydia’s going to Brighton was all that consoled her for the melancholy conviction of her husband’s never intending to go there himself.

          But they were entirely ignorant of what had passed; and their raptures continued, with little intermission, to the very day of Lydia’s leaving home.                                            Elizabeth was now to see Mr. Wickham for the last time. Having been frequently in company with him since her return, agitation was pretty well over; the agitations of former partiality entirely so. She had even learnt to detect, in the very gentleness which had first delighted her, an affectation and a sameness to disgust and weary. His requests to rub his groin against her backside, while once seemed quaint, now grew tedious. In his present behaviour to herself, moreover, she had a fresh source of displeasure, for the inclination he soon testified of renewing those attentions which had marked the early part of their acquaintance could only serve, after what had since passed, to provoke her. She lost all concern for him in finding herself thus selected as the object of such idle and frivolous gallantry; and while she steadily repressed it, could not but feel the reproof contained in his believing that, however long, and for whatever cause, his attentions had been withdrawn, her vanity would be gratified and her preference secured at any time by their renewal.

         On the very last day of the regiment’s remaining in Meryton, he dined with others of the officers at Longbourn; and so little was Elizabeth disposed to part from him in good humour. That on his making some enquiry as to the manner in which her time had passed at Hunsford, she mentioned Colonel Fitzwilliam’s and Mr. Darcy’s having both spent three weeks at Rosings, and asked him if he were acquainted with the former.

          He looked surprised, displeased, aroused, alarmed; but with a moment’s recollection and a returning smile, replied that he had formerly seen him often. And after observing that he was a very gentlemanlike man, asked her how she had liked him. Her answer was warmly in his favour. With an air of indifference, he soon afterwards added, “How long did you say that he was at Rosings?”

          “Nearly three weeks.”

         “And you saw him frequently?”

          “Yes, almost every day.”

          “His manners are very different from his cousin’s.”

          “Yes, very different. But I think Mr. Darcy improves on acquaintance.”      

          “Indeed!” cried Wickham with a look which did not escape her. “And pray may I first ask, did he honour you with a piece of that ludicrously generous … action? Nay, pray don’t tell me; I cannot bear to even think upon it, lest I might be overcome with jealousy and distraction. May I then ask --?” but checking himself, he added in a gayer tone, “Is it in address that he improves? Has he deigned to add ought of civility to his ordinary style? for I dare not hope,” he continued in a lower and more serious tone, “that he is improved in essentials.”

          “Oh, no!” said Elizabeth. “In essentials, I believe, he is very much what he ever was, which is, indeed, more than enough.”

         While she spoke, Wickham looked as if scarcely knowing whether to rejoice over her words, or to distrust their meaning. There was a something in her countenance which made him listen with an apprehensive and anxious attention, while she added.

         “When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did not mean that either his mind or manners were in a state of improvement, but that from knowing him better, his disposition was better understood.”

         Wickham’s alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion and agitated look; for a few minutes he was silent; till, shaking off his embarrassment, he turned to her again, and said in the gentlest of accents.

         “You, who so well know my feelings towards Mr. Darcy, will readily comprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that he is wise enough to assume even the appearance of what is right. His pride, in that direction, may be of service, if not to himself, to many others, for it must deter him from such foul misconduct as I have suffered by. I only fear that the sort of cautiousness, to which you, I imagine, have been alluding, is merely adopted on his visits to his aunt, of whose good opinion and judgment he stands much in awe. His fear of her has always operated, I know, when they were together; and a good deal is to be imputed to his wish of forwarding the match with Miss de Bourgh, which I am certain he has very much at heart.”

         Elizabeth could not repress a smile at this, but she answered only by a slight inclination of the head. She saw that he wanted to engage her on the old subject of his grievances, and she was in no humour to indulge him. The rest of the evening passed with the appearance, on his side, of usual cheerfulness, but with no farther attempt to distinguish Elizabeth; and they parted at last with mutual civility, and possibly a mutual desire of never meeting again.

         When the party broke up, Lydia returned with Mrs. Forster to Meryton, from whence they were to set out early the next morning. The separation between her and her family was rather noisy than pathetic. Kitty was the only one who shed tears; but she did weep from vexation and envy. Mrs. Bennet was diffuse in her good wishes for the felicity of her daughter, and impressive in her injunctions that she would not miss the opportunity of enjoying herself as much as possible. Advice, which there was every reason to believe would be attended to; and in the clamorous happiness of Lydia herself in bidding farewell, the more gentle adieus of her sisters were uttered without being heard.


	42. Chapter 42

 

 

 

 

**Chapter 42**

         Elizabeth’s opinion been all drawn from her own family, she could not have formed a very pleasing picture of conjugal felicity or domestic comfort. Her father, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance of good humour which youth and beauty generally give. Had married a woman whose weak understanding and illiberal mind had, very early in their marriage, put an end to all real affection for her. Respect, esteem, and confidence had vanished for ever; and all his views of domestic happiness were overthrown. But Mr. Bennet was not of a disposition to seek comfort, for the disappointment which his own imprudence had brought on, in any of those pleasures which too often console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice. He was fond of the country and of books, and more than all else, the company of prostitutes, which he preferred young, busty and sexually creative; and from these tastes had arisen his principal enjoyments. To his wife he was very little otherwise indebted, then as her ignorance and folly had contributed to his amusement. This is not the sort of happiness which a man would in general wish to owe to his wife; but where other powers of entertainment are wanting, the true philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given.

         Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to the impropriety of her father’s behaviour as a husband. She had always seen it with pain; but respecting his abilities, and grateful for his affectionate treatment of herself, she endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook. To banish from her thoughts that continual breach of conjugal obligation and decorum which, in exposing his wife to the contempt of her own children, was so highly reprehensible. It went without saying that she was less than thrilled with the constant parade of barely-clad, big-breasted hookers that frequented his private library. But she had never felt so strongly as now the disadvantages which must attend the children of so unsuitable a marriage. Nor ever been so fully aware of the evils arising from so ill-judged a direction of talents. Talents which rightly used, might at least have preserved the respectability of his daughters, even if incapable of enlarging the mind of his wife.

         When Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham’s departure, she found little other cause for satisfaction in the loss of the regiment. Their parties abroad were less varied than before; and at home she had a mother and sister whose constant repinings at the dullness of every thing around them threw a real gloom over their domestic circle. And, though Kitty might in time regain her natural degree of sense, since the disturbers of her brain were removed, her other sister, from whose disposition greater evil might be apprehended, was likely to be hardened in all her folly and assurance by a situation of such double danger as a watering place and a camp full of horny soldiers. Upon the whole, therefore, she found what has been sometimes found before, that an event to which she had looked forward with impatient desire, did not, in taking place, bring all the satisfaction she had promised herself. It was consequently necessary to name some other period for the commencement of actual felicity; to have some other point on which her wishes and hopes might be fixed. And by again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for the present, and prepare for another disappointment. Her tour to the Lakes was now the object of her happiest thoughts. It was her best consolation for all the uncomfortable hours which the discontentedness of her mother and Kitty made inevitable; and could she have included Jane in the scheme, every part of it would have been perfect.

          “But it is fortunate,” thought she, “that I have something to wish for. Were the whole arrangement complete, my disappointment would be certain. But here, by my carrying with me one ceaseless source of regret in my sister’s absence, I may reasonably hope to have all my expectations of pleasure realized. A scheme of which every part promises delight, can never be successful; and general disappointment is only warded off by the defense of some little peculiar vexation.”          When Lydia went away, she promised to write very often and very minutely to her mother and Kitty; but her letters were always long expected, and always very short. Those to her mother contained little else, then that they were just returned from the barracks, where such and such officers had attended them. And where she had seen such beautiful ornaments as made her quite wild. That she had a new gown, or new lace garters, which she would have described more fully, but was obliged to leave off in a violent hurry, as Mrs. Forster called her, and they were going to the camp. From her correspondence with her sister, there was still less to be learnt --for her letters to Kitty, though rather longer, were much too full of lines under the words to be made public.

         After the first fortnight or three weeks of her absence, health, good humour, and cheerfulness began to re-appear at Longbourn. Everything wore a happier aspect. The families who had been in town for the winter came back again, and summer finery and summer engagements arose. Mrs. Bennet was restored to her usual querulous serenity, and by the middle of June. Kitty was so much recovered as to be able to enter Mertyon without tears; an event of such happy promise as to make Elizabeth hope that by the following Christmas. She might be so tolerably reasonable as not to mention an officer above once a day, unless, by some cruel and malicious arrangement at the War-Office, another regiment should be quartered in Meryton.

          The time fixed for the beginning of their Northern tour was now fast approaching; and a fortnight only was wanting of it, when a letter arrived from Mrs. Gardiner, which at once delayed its commencement and curtailed its extent. Mr. Gardiner would be prevented by business from setting out till a fortnight later in July, and must be in London again within a month. To ensure that his brothel chain, which he was currently in the process of franchising, was running smoothly.  As that left too short a period for them to go so far, and see so much as they had proposed, or at least to see it with the leisure and comfort they had built on, they were obliged to give up the Lakes, and substitute a more contracted tour. And, according to the present plan, were to go no farther northward than Derbyshire. In that county, there was enough to be seen to occupy the chief of their three weeks; and to Mrs. Gardiner it had a peculiarly strong attraction. The town where she had formerly passed some years of her life, and where they were now to spend a few days, was probably as great an object of her curiosity, as all the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth, Dovedale, or the Peak.

         Elizabeth was excessively disappointed; she had set her heart on seeing the Lakes, and she had entertained a delightful reverie involving a wild mountainman. That happened upon her carriage in the dark of night; and still thought there might have been time enough. But it was her business to be satisfied --and certainly her temper to be happy; and all was soon right again.

          With the mention of Derbyshire, there were many ideas connected. It was impossible for her to see the word without thinking of Pemberley and its owner, and come to think of it, the mountainman who frequented her daydreams bore a curious resemblance none other than the man himself. “But surely,” said she, “I may enter his county with impunity, and rob it of a few petrified spars without his perceiving me.”

          The period of expectation was now doubled. Four weeks were to pass away before her uncle and aunt’s arrival. But they did pass away, and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, with their four children, did at length appear at Longbourn. The children, two girls of six and eight years old, and two younger boys, were to be left under the particular care of their cousin Jane. Who was the general favourite, and whose steady sense and sweetness of temper exactly adapted her for attending to them in every way --teaching them, playing with them, and loving them.

          The Gardiners staid only one night at Longbourn, and set off the next morning with Elizabeth in pursuit of novelty and amusement. One enjoyment was certain --that of suitableness as companions. A suitableness which comprehended health and temper to bear inconveniences --cheerfulness to enhance every pleasure --and affection and intelligence, which might supply it among themselves if there were disappointments abroad.

          It is not the object of this work to give a description of Derbyshire, nor of any of the remarkable places through which their route thither lay; Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth, Birmingham, &c. are sufficiently known. The object of this work, rather, is to describe in detail the sexual exploits, however debauched they may be, of a number of residents in and around London and its northern environs. A small part of Derbyshire is all the present concern, since it is there where the most exciting, satisfying and indeed meaningful of the sexual exploits herein are soon to take place. To the little town of Lambton, the scene of Mrs. Gardiner’s former residence, and where she had lately learned that some acquaintance still remained, they bent their steps. After having seen all the principal wonders of the country; and within five miles of Lambton, Elizabeth found from her aunt that Pemberley was situated. It was not in their direct road, nor more than a mile or two out of it. In talking over their route the evening before, Mrs. Gardiner expressed an inclination to see the place again. Mr. Gardiner declared his willingness, and Elizabeth was applied to for her approbation.

         “My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have heard so much?” said her aunt. “A place too, with which so many of your acquaintance are connected. Wickham passed all his youth there, you know.”

         Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no business at Pemberley, and was obliged to assume a disinclination for seeing it. She must own that she was tired of great houses; after going over so many, she really had no pleasure in fine carpets or satin curtains.

         Mrs. Gardiner abused her stupidity. “If it were merely a fine house richly furnished,” said she, “I should not care about it myself; but the grounds are delightful. They have some of the finest woods in the country.”

         Elizabeth said no more --but her mind could not acquiesce. The possibility of meeting Mr. Darcy, while viewing the place, instantly occurred. It would be dreadful! Regretfully yet fully identifying the depths of her own private fervor, she knew she would be powerless to resist him lest he approach her again, whisper delicious declarations, and compel her with his skillful hands and iniquitous tongue. Further consideration of the topic of his murmured intentions, of her own compliance, mingled distressingly with the potent memory of his oversized manhood in all its glory. First bursting forth its creamy emissions at the sight of her naked body, then held more recently in his hand as he professed not only his desire but his love was enough to rouse piqued sensation to her very depths. She considered how his substance might feel, there, inside her, forcefully possessing her–. She blushed at the very idea; and thought it would be better to speak openly to her aunt than to run such a risk. But against this there were objections; and she finally resolved that it could be the last resource, if her private enquiries as to the absence of the family were unfavorably answered.

          Accordingly, when she retired at night, she asked the chambermaid whether Pemberley were not a very fine place, what was the name of its proprietor, and, with no little alarm, whether the family were down for the summer. A most welcome negative followed the last question --and her alarms being now removed, she was at leisure to feel a great deal of curiosity to see the house herself. And when the subject was revived the next morning, and she was again applied to, could readily answer, and with a proper air of indifference, that she had not really any dislike to the scheme. To Pemberley, therefore, they were to go.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YASSSSSSSSSS! This is the chapter that many have been waiting for and i don't think any will be disappointed. Don't be shy with the reviews.

**Chapter 43**

         Elizabeth, as they drove along, watched for the first appearance of Pemberley Woods with some perturbation; and when at length they turned in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter.

          The park was very large, and contained great variety of ground. They entered it in one of its lowest points, and drove for some time through a beautiful wood, stretching over a wide extent.

         Elizabeth’s mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired every remarkable spot and point of view. They gradually ascended for half a mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased. And the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road, with some abruptness, wound. It was a large, handsome, stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills. In front, a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks were neither formal, nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were all of them warm in their admiration, she rather more thoroughly than the others; and at that moment she felt that to be mistress of Pemberley might be something! The idea of accepting Mr. Darcy and all his many endowments was becoming, she could recognize definitive, rather more appealing the more she saw of them.

         They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door; and, while examining the nearer aspect of the house, all her apprehensions of meeting its owner returned. She dreaded lest the chambermaid had been mistaken. On applying to see the place, they were admitted into the hall; and Elizabeth, as they waited for the housekeeper, had leisure to wonder at her being where she was.

          The housekeeper came; a respectable-looking, elderly woman, much less fine, and more civil, than she had any notion of finding her. They followed her into the dining-parlour. It was a large, well-proportioned room, handsomely fitted up. Elizabeth, after slightly surveying it, went to a window to enjoy its prospect. The hill, crowned with wood, from which they had descended, receiving increased abruptness from the distance, was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the ground was good; and she looked on the whole scene --the river, the trees scattered on its banks, and the winding of the valley, as far as she could trace it --with delight. As they passed into other rooms, these objects were taking different positions; but from every window there were beauties to be seen. The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture suitable to the fortune of their proprietor. Elizabeth saw, with admiration of his taste, that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly fine; with less of splendor, and more real elegance, than the furniture of Rosings, and there were fewer disciplinary devices featured.

         “And of this place,” thought she, “I might have been mistress! I might have got my hands on some of this loot! With these rooms I might now have been familiarly acquainted! Instead of viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced in them as my own, and welcomed to them as visitors my uncle and aunt; I might have by now –I would have by now, she felt more than certain, been brought to the very brink of sanity with overwhelming, devastating pleasure, and repeatedly, as avowed by Mr. Darcy’s firm insistence. --But no,” --recollecting herself, --“that could never be: my uncle and aunt would have been lost to me: I should not have been allowed to invite them.” This was a lucky recollection --it saved her from something like regret.

         She longed to enquire of the housekeeper whether her master were really absent, but had not courage for it. At length, however, the question was asked by her uncle; and she turned away with alarm, while Mrs. Reynolds replied that he was, adding, “but we expect him tomorrow, with a large party of friends.” How rejoiced was Elizabeth that their own journey had not by any circumstance been delayed a day!

          Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. She approached, and saw the likeness of Mr. Wickham suspended, amongst several other miniatures, over the mantelpiece. Her aunt asked her, smilingly, how she liked it. The housekeeper came forward, and told them it was the picture of a young gentleman, the son of her late master’s steward, who had been brought up by him at his own expense. –“He is now gone into the army,” she added, “but I am afraid he has turned out very wild, and somewhat confused about which team he bats for.”

         Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, but Elizabeth could not return it.

          “And that,” said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to another of the miniatures, “is my master --and very like him. It was drawn at the same time as the other --about eight years ago.”

          “I have heard much of your master’s fine person,” said Mrs. Gardiner, looking at the picture; “it is a handsome face. But, Lizzy, you can tell us whether it is like or not.”

         Mrs. Reynolds’s respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase on this intimation of her knowing her master.

          “Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?”

         Elizabeth colored, and said –“A little.”

          “And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, Ma’am?”

          “Yes, very handsome.”

         “I am sure I know none so handsome; but in the gallery up stairs you will see a finer, larger picture of him than this. This room was my late master’s favourite room, and these miniatures are just as they used to be then. He was very fond of them.”

          This accounted to Elizabeth for Mr. Wickham’s being among them.

          Mrs. Reynolds then directed their attention to one of Miss Darcy, drawn when she was only eight years old.

         “And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?” said Mrs. Gardiner.

         “Oh! yes --the handsomest young lady that ever was seen; and so accomplished! --She plays and sings all day long. In the next room is a new instrument just come down for her --a present from my master; she comes here to-morrow with him.”

         Mr. Gardiner, whose manners were easy and pleasant, encouraged her communicativeness by his questions and remarks. Mrs. Reynolds, either from pride or attachment, had evidently great pleasure in talking of her master and his sister.

          “Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?”

          “Not so much as I could wish, Sir; but I dare say he may spend half his time here; and Miss Darcy is always down for the summer months.”

         “Except,” thought Elizabeth, “when she goes to Ramsgate.”

         “If your master would marry, you might see more of him.”

         “Yes, Sir; but I do not know when that will be. I do not know who is good enough for him.”

          Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth could not help saying, “It is very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think so.”

          “I say no more than the truth, and what every body will say that knows him,” replied the other. Elizabeth thought this was going pretty far; and she listened with increasing astonishment as the housekeeper added, “I have never had a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was four years old.”

         This was praise, of all others most extraordinary, most opposite to her ideas. That he was not a good tempered man had been her firmest opinion. Her keenest attention was awakened; she longed to hear more, and was grateful to her uncle for saying.

          “There are very few people of whom so much can be said. You are lucky in having such a master.”

          “Yes, Sir, I know I am. If I was to go through the world, I could not meet with a better. But I have always observed that they who are good-natured when children are good-natured when they grow up; and he was always the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted, boy in the world.”

         Elizabeth almost stared at her. – “Can this be Mr. Darcy?!” thought she.

          “His father was an excellent man,” said Mrs. Gardiner.

          “Yes, Ma’am, that he was indeed; and his son will be just like him --just as affable to the poor.”

         Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, tingled, and was impatient for more. Mrs. Reynolds could interest her on no other point. She related the subject of the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms, and the price of the furniture, in vain. Mrs. Gardiner, highly amused by the kind of family prejudice to which he attributed her excessive commendation of her master, soon led again to the subject; and she dwelt with energy on his many merits, as they proceeded together up the great staircase.

          “He is the best landlord, and the best master,” said she, “that ever lived. Not like the wild young men now-a-days, who think of nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but what will give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men.”

          “In what an amiable light does this place him!” thought Elizabeth.

          “This fine account of him,” whispered her aunt, as they walked, “is not quite consistent with his behaviour to our poor friend.”

          “Perhaps we might be deceived.”

         “That is not very likely; our authority was too good.”

          On reaching the spacious lobby above, they were shewn into a very pretty sitting-room, lately fitted up with greater elegance and lightness than the apartments below. And were informed that it was but just done to give pleasure to Miss Darcy, who had taken a liking to the room when last at Pemberley.

         “He is certainly a good brother,” said Elizabeth, as she walked towards one of the windows.

         Mrs. Reynolds anticipated Miss Darcy’s delight when she should enter the room. “And this is always the way with him,” she added. – “Whatever can give his sister any pleasure is sure to be done in a moment. There is nothing he would not do for her.”

          The picture gallery, and two or three of the principal bedrooms, were all that remained to be shewn. In the former were many good paintings; but Elizabeth knew nothing of the art. And from such as had been already visible below, she had willingly turned to look at some drawings of Miss Darcy’s, in crayons, whose subjects were usually more interesting, and also more intelligible.

         In the gallery there were many family portraits, but they could have little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth walked on in quest of the only face and other features whose would be known to her. At last it arrested her --and she beheld a striking resemblance of a brawny, shirtless Mr. Darcy, with such a smile over the face as she remembered to have sometimes seen, when he looked at her. She stood several minutes before the picture in earnest contemplation, and returned to it again before they quitted the gallery. Mrs. Reynolds informed them that it had been taken in his father’s life time.

         There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth’s mind, a gentler sensation towards the original than she had ever felt in the height of their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed on him by Mrs. Reynolds was of no trifling nature. What praise is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent servant? As a brother, a landlord, a master, she considered how many people’s happiness were in his guardianship! --How much of pleasure or pain it was in his power to bestow! --How much of good or evil must be done by him! Every idea that had been brought forward by the housekeeper was favourable to his character, and as she stood before the canvas, on which he was represented, and fixed his eyes upon herself, she thought of his regard with a deeper sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised before; she remembered its warmth, and softened its impropriety of expression, wishing the painting was of his full figure, unclothed and stimulated; she yearned to gaze upon his form and countenance without the fear, the misinformed resentment, the obvious arousal on her part and his own perceptive interpretation of it.

          When all of the house that was open to general inspection had been seen, they returned down stairs, and, taking leave of the housekeeper, were consigned over to the gardener, who met them at the hall door.

          As they walked across the lawn towards the river, Elizabeth turned back to look again. Her uncle and aunt stopped also, and while the former was conjecturing as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself suddenly came forward from the road, which led behind it to the stables.

         They were within twenty yards of each other, and so abrupt was his appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight. Their eyes instantly met, and the cheeks of each were overspread with the deepest blush. He absolutely started, and for a moment seemed immoveable from surprise. But shortly recovering himself, advanced towards the party, and spoke to Elizabeth, if not in terms of perfect composure, at least of perfect civility. She was glad he wore an overcoat that hid his groin, for she did not believe she could hold herself back if evidence of his former ardour were to make itself known. She had thought of little else but the extreme magnificence of his megamember in the days since she had last beheld it, and did not trust herself. If its outline were to present itself, straining and rigid against the fabric of his clothing, to refrain from approaching him, unfastening his trousers with deliberate zeal, bare her breasts to him and rub her nipples against his throbbing glory until he had no choice but to take her, ride her, force her to climactic summits to which she so desperately ached to climb.

         She had instinctively turned away; but, stopping on his approach, received his compliments with an embarrassment impossible to be overcome. Her quim quivered and moistened with ludicrous ease. Had his first appearance, or his resemblance to the picture they had just been examining, been insufficient to assure the other two that they now saw Mr. Darcy, the gardener’s expression of surprise on beholding his master must immediately have told it. They stood a little aloof while he was talking to their niece, who, astonished and confused, scarcely dared lift her eyes to his face, and knew not what answer she returned to his civil enquiries after her family. Amazed at the alteration in his manner since they last parted, every sentence that he uttered was increasing her embarrassment. And every idea of the impropriety of her being found there recurring to her mind, the few minutes in which they continued together were some of the most uncomfortable of her life. Nor did he seem much more at ease; when he spoke, his accent had none of its usual sedateness. He repeated his enquiries as to the time of her having left Longbourn, and of her stay in Derbyshire, so often, and in so hurried a way, as plainly spoke the distraction of his thoughts.

         At length, every idea seemed to fail him as they exchanged stilted conversation, his eyes riveted by the glint of moisture on her parted pink lips. The tantalising swell of her full breasts, and the discernable tautness of her protruding nipples through the thin film of her blouse. Relieved as Elizabeth had been that he sported a long overcoat, his hidden yet volatile erection had sprung to life upon his first glimpse of her, only growing in girth and ferocity, throbbing against the fabric of his breeches in a decidedly uncomfortable manner. And, after standing a few moments without saying a word, he suddenly recollected himself, and took leave.               

       The others then joined her, and expressed their admiration of his muscle-bound figure; but Elizabeth heard not a word, and, wholly engrossed by her own feelings, followed them in silence. She was overpowered by shame, need, and vexation. Her coming there was the most unfortunate, the most ill-judged thing in the world! How strange must it appear to him! In what a disgraceful light might it not strike so vain a man! It might seem as if she had purposely thrown herself in his way again! She may as well have thrown up her skirts and revealed to him that she wore nothing underneath, that her intimates were swollen, honeyed and ready at last receive to his forceful possession, as she so longed to do! Oh! why did she come? Or, why had she not at least endeavored to work more diligently to achieve an orgasm prior to her meeting him, so she was not so ridiculously overcome by lust for him? Or, why did he thus come a day before he was expected? Had they been only ten minutes sooner, they should have been beyond the reach of his discrimination, for it was plain that he was that moment arrived, that moment alighted from his horse or his carriage. She blushed again and again over the perverseness of the meeting. And his behaviour, so strikingly altered, --what could it mean? That he should even speak to her was amazing! --But to speak with such civility, to enquire after her family! Never in her life had she seen his manners so little dignified, never had he spoken with such gentleness as on this unexpected meeting. What a contrast did it offer to his last address in Rosings Park, when he put his letter into her hand! She knew not what to think, nor how to account for it.                    

        They had now entered a beautiful walk by the side of the water, and every step was bringing forward a nobler fall of ground, or a finer reach of the woods to which they were approaching.  But it was some time before Elizabeth was sensible of any of it; and, though she answered mechanically to the repeated appeals of her uncle and aunt, and seemed to direct her eyes to such objects as they pointed out, she distinguished no part of the scene. Her thoughts were all fixed on that one spot of Pemberley House, whichever it might be, where Mr. Darcy then was. She longed to know what at that moment was passing in his mind; in what manner he thought of her, and whether, in defiance of every thing, she was still dear to him. Perhaps he had been civil only because he felt himself at ease; yet there had been that in his voice which was not like ease. Whether he had felt more of pain or of pleasure in seeing her, she could not tell, but he certainly had not seen her with composure.

         At length, however, the remarks of her companions on her absence of mind roused her, and she felt the necessity of appearing more like herself.

          They entered the woods, and bidding adieu to the river for a while, ascended some of the higher grounds. Whence, in spots where the opening of the trees gave the eye power to wander, were many charming views of the valley, the opposite hills, with the long range of woods overspreading many, and occasionally part of the stream.

          Mr. Gardiner expressed a wish of going round the whole Park, but feared it might be beyond a walk. With a triumphant smile, they were told that it was ten miles round. It settled the matter; and they pursued the accustomed circuit; which brought them again, after some time, in a descent among hanging woods, to the edge of the water, in one of its narrowest parts. They crossed it by a simple bridge, in character with the general air of the scene; it was a spot less adorned than any they had yet visited. The valley, here contracted into a glen, allowed room only for the stream, and a narrow walk amidst the rough coppice-wood which bordered it. Elizabeth longed to explore its windings; but when they had crossed the bridge, and perceived their distance from the house, Mrs. Gardiner, who was not a great walker, could go no farther, and thought only of returning to the carriage as quickly as possible. Her niece was, therefore, obliged to submit, and they took their way towards the house on the opposite side of the river, in the nearest direction. Their progress was slow, for Mr. Gardiner, though seldom able to indulge the taste, was very fond of fishing. Was so much engaged in watching the occasional appearance of some trout in the water, and talking to the man about them, that he advanced but little.

          Whilst wandering on in this slow manner, they were again surprised, and Elizabeth’s astonishment was quite equal to what it had been at first, by the sight of Mr. Darcy approaching them, and at no great distance. The walk being here less sheltered than on the other side, allowed them to see him before they met. Elizabeth, however astonished, was at least more prepared for an interview than before, and resolved to appear and to speak with calmness, if he really intended to meet them. For a few moments, indeed, she felt that he would probably strike into some other path. This idea lasted while a turning in the walk concealed him from their view; the turning past, he was immediately before them. With a glance she saw that he had lost none of his recent civility; and, to imitate his politeness, she began, as they met, to admire the beauty of the place. But she had not got beyond the words “delightful,” and “charming,” when some unlucky recollections obtruded, and she fancied that prize of Pemberley from her might be mischievously construed. Her colour changed, and she said no more.

         Mrs. Gardiner was standing a little behind; and on her pausing, he asked her if she would do him the honour of introducing him to her friends. This was a stroke of civility for which she was quite unprepared; and she could hardly suppress a smile at his being now seeking the acquaintance of some of those very people against whom his pride had revolted, in his offer to herself. “What will be his surprise,” thought she, “when he knows who they are! He takes them now for people of fashion.”

         The introduction, however, was immediately made; and as she named their relationship to herself, she stole a sly look at him, to see how he bore it. And was not without the expectation of his decamping as fast as he could from such disgraceful companions. That he was surprised by the connection was evident; he sustained it however with fortitude, and so far from going away, turned back with them, and entered into conversation with Mr. Gardiner. Elizabeth could not but be pleased, could not but triumph. How surprising it was that he did not turn on his heel and flee from her trashy kin. It was consoling that he should know she had some relations for whom there was no need to blush. She listened most attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every expression, every sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence, his taste, or his good manners.

          The conversation soon turned upon fishing, and she heard Mr. Darcy invite him, with the greatest civility, to fish there as often as he chose while he continued in the neighbourhood. Offering at the same time to supply him with fishing tackle, and pointing out those parts of the stream where there was usually most sport. Mrs. Gardiner, who was walking arm in arm with Elizabeth, gave her a look expressive of her wonder. Elizabeth said nothing, but it gratified her exceedingly; the compliment must be all for herself. Her astonishment, however, was extreme; and continually was she repeating, “Why is he so altered? From what can it proceed? It cannot be for me; it cannot be for my sake that his manners are thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not work such a change as this. It is impossible that he should still love me and be as hot for me as he once professed to be.”

          After walking some time in this way, the two ladies in front, the two gentlemen behind, on resuming their places after descending to the brink of the river. For the better inspection of some curious water-plant, there chanced to be a little alteration. It originated in Mrs. Gardiner, who, fatigued by the exercise of the morning, found Elizabeth’s arm inadequate to her support, and consequently preferred her husband’s. Mr. Darcy took her place by her niece, and they walked on together. After a short silence, the lady first spoke. She wished him to know that she had been assured of his absence before she came to the place, and accordingly began by observing that his arrival had been very unexpected.–“For your housekeeper,” she added, “informed us that you would certainly not be here till to-morrow; and indeed, before we left Bakewell we understood that you were not immediately expected in the country. I am not as desperate and whoring as I may appear to be.” He acknowledged the truth of it all; and said that business with his steward had occasioned his coming forward a few hours before the rest of the party with whom he had been travelling. “They will join me early tomorrow,” he continued, “and among them are some who will claim an acquaintance with you, --Mr. Bingley and his sisters.”

         Elizabeth answered only by a slight bow. Her thoughts were instantly driven back to the time when Mr. Bingley’s name had been last mentioned between them; and if she might judge from his complexion, his mind was not very differently engaged.

         “There is also one other person in the party,” he continued after a pause, “who more particularly wishes to be known to you. --Will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance during your stay at Lambton?”

         The surprise of such an application was great indeed; it was too great for her to know in what manner she acceded to it. She immediately felt that whatever desire Miss Darcy might have of being acquainted with her must be the work of her brother, and without looking farther, it was satisfactory. It was gratifying to know that his resentment had not made him think really ill of her.

         They now walked on in silence; each of them deep in thought. Elizabeth was not comfortable; that was impossible; but she was flattered and pleased. His wish of introducing his sister to her was a compliment of the highest kind. They soon outstripped the others, and when they had reached the carriage, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were half a quarter of a mile behind.

         Taking his opportunity, he pulled Elizabeth behind a row of shrubbery, shielding them from view. His eyes bore into her with unrestrained lust and his large, hot hands reached to cup her breasts, which he kneaded gently. He unfastened the top buttons of her dress, revealing her milky skin to him, using his fingers to squeeze and elongate her nipples in a most excruciatingly pleasurable manner, until she moaned despite herself. Continuing this painfully arousing pressure with his fingers, he leaned to kiss her, brushing his mouth across hers. Licking her lips and settling in with gentle pressure, tasting her deeply and drawing her tongue into his mouth. He drew back enough to utter.

         “I want to kiss every inch of your flushed skin, Miss Bennet, to lick my tongue into your most sensitive, intimate places until you are driven mad with desire. I want to take you over my knee and spank your bare buttocks until they are pink and heated, teasing and dipping into your moistened quim with my unrelenting fingers until it is plumped and glistening with your desperate, aching need. And then do you surmise what it is I want to do subsequent to my skilled torture of your succulent body?”

          “I wouldn’t pretend to know,” she replied breathlessly, arching slightly to offer her breasts to more of his rough demand.

         “I believe you do know,” he smiled, his eyes full of dark, exquisite promise. “I believe you have every idea that you will beg for –”

         “I will not beg,” she gasped. “You made it perfectly clear to me, many months ago, how much you abhor weakness.”

          “Oh, but you will, Miss Bennet. I guarantee it. And I do believe I will allow an exception in your case to my general disdain of pleading, reckless desire.”

          “That will not be necess—” Her contention was cut short by his stealthy assault; he had lifted her skirts and at that moment touched her most intimate flesh with his demanding fingers. Gliding them along the slick, humid flesh, parting her just slightly, centering his thumb on her sensitive trigger while barely dipping two fingers into her slippery core. She squirmed against him, seeking more of his compelling coercion yet fearful that her legs would not hold her.

          “You are so wet, Miss Bennet. So very ready. And you will need to be, to accommodate all of me. Once I have made you come, and come again, once I’ve readied you and beaten you into willing submission. I’ll plunge myself into your tight, juicy depths, to feel you pulse around me, gripping me and pleasuring me to my own satisfaction, again and again.”

          His thumb circled, teasing a sweet, torturous need. “Yes,” she whispered, unable to stop herself.

         “You would wish that I please you right now, would you not, Miss Bennet? I could so easily coax your pleasure, with just this gentlest touch.” His thumb slid invitingly, skillfully. “Already you are rising, falling, wanting release. Yet I will see you suffer, as I suffer. Torture is one of my skills, as you may be aware, and it would seem you are equally skilled in that regard.”

          “I did not intend to torture anyone, Mr. Darcy. Least of all you.”

         His smile was wicked, his fingers even more so. “I will trust, in that case, that you speak the truth. Upon your declaration I become inclined to give you the pleasure you so desperately implore me to grant you.”

          “I have implored no such plea.”

          “Even if your mouth does not utter the words, Miss Bennet, your eyes, your fine green eyes, they beseech me, wordless yet fervent.” His thumb circled her clitoris with excruciating precision, preventing her retort, but then the touch was removed. Mr. Darcy allowed her skirts to drop. “And I intend to deliver upon their sordid request. Open your mouth.”

          She hesitated, then parted her lips. He held his thumb to her bottom lip, prodding it gently into her mouth. “Taste.”

          Elizabeth obeyed him, sucking gently on his thumb, tasting the salty tang of her own desire.

          “And now,” said he, “I will avail myself to the same privilege. Allow me to lay you down momentarily, lest you fall when your strength fails you.”

          “My strength has never failed me,” said she, her voice sounding fluttery despite her protests, and she made an effort to counter the outward signs of her fear, her reckless anticipation, her climbing need.

          “That is because you have never experienced bliss of the magnitude I am about to introduce.”

         Elizabeth made no move to resist him, nor could she; his strength encompassed her entirely, reclining her in a quick yet fully controlled embrace. To feel his body pressed up against her, surrounding her, inflamed her desire tenfold. She had not been touched by him since the orgy, early in their acquaintance, and although she had been overwhelmingly responsive to him even then. Her flush upon their earlier encounter was paltry compared to the fiery bloom of feeling that enveloped her now. His scent was of wealth, masculinity, fresh air and the subtlest, lingering hint of smoke. His weight and solidity as he lay above her, against her, was shockingly real, and close; the proximity sent a bolt of awareness to her core, which softened and throbbed invitingly. His dark hair, mildly windblown, mirrored his manner: groomed into total control yet wild and unruly around its very most edges.

          Watching her eyes intently with his own, she thought the expression in his midnight eyes resembled a wolf’s as it might contemplate a lamb. Yet the fleeting image did not curtail her want, and in fact succeeding in heightening the subtle pulse upon her skin and to her depths even farther.

          He took her mouth in a scorching kiss, his tongue delving artfully, stirring her abandon with its soft, lusty exploration. He sensed that their time was not unlimited. His mouth moved to her jaw, her neck, her breasts, which he devoured in strong, heady pulls, enticing further joy in her intimate regions, which swelled and throbbed with excruciating sweetness. His hands grabbed fistfuls of her skirts, bunching them to her waist, revealing her completely to his feasting eyes.

          “Oh, this beauteous sight! This unequalled womanly enticement! Never have I beheld such magnificent, ripe glory! At my very first glimpse of you, I lost myself utterly, bound never to recover. This very image haunts my days and my nights, unbearably.”

          He leaned his mouth close, breathing his hot breath upon her sensitive flesh, as he had done once before, as she had longed for him to do ever since that splendid sensory enticement. And the warm strikes of his breath unfurled a receptive urge in Elizabeth’s core that caused her to moan and instinctively open her legs just so. At the invitation, Mr. Darcy lowered his mouth to her, licking into her with a hungry, lapping caress. The sensation delivered by his tongue caused her to unmindfully utter a small squeak, and she squirmed as though to evade him, hitherto grasping clenched handfuls of his thick hair. He was not to be dislodged. He held her down with his large, forceful hands, licking again, and again, each time dipping further with his tongue, slowing to circle her receptive nub with his tongue. His mouth centered, sucking strongly and meticulously of her swollen flesh, drawing her into his mouth with insistent, rhythmic suction, using his tongue to flick at the underside of her most sensitive bud. Each lap, each dip, each steady, circular pull invited a most energetic, unrestrained pleasure at the point where he touched her as to send Elizabeth into a profound, consuming haze of need. She writhed against him, attempting to pull him closer.

          “Cease your writhing,” he ordered. “Be still, or I will deny you.”

          Elizabeth stilled immediately.

         “I’ve half a mind to abduct you to my rooms and restrain you, which you clearly deserve, feisty little wildcat that you are. That inviting scenario, however, will have to wait for another day.”

         Elizabeth moaned softly, attempting to interpret even as she did so the reason for her low lament; Mr. Darcy appeared unfettered by any such confusion. “I have every intention of continuing,” he murmured against her body, his expressive lips introducing a vibrant surge to her depths that found her moaning once more. “You have no need to beg me, nor moan for my attentions. My attention, believe me, is undivided. But moan away, if it pleases you.”

          She did, as he resumed his clever plundering. With his tongue, he explored the contours and responses of her damp, high-strung, receptive body. Again, and again, with cyclical precision, he caressed and plowed and suckled on her most sensitive peak. Until Elizabeth’s pleasure swelled uproariously, enveloping her senses, bathing her in bliss so intense she had no awareness but the acute beauty delivered by his mouth and his tongue. The rapture held in a transcendent, blinding moment, leaving no part of her untouched, then shattered through her core, leaving in its wake a resplendent cascade of tight, clenching spasms of her innermost body. Mr. Darcy delved his tongue deeper, feeling the rhythm of her release, tasting her honey, enticing the swell farther, and extending the power of her pleasure, until the clenching of her intimate flesh gentled, and calmed. Still he continued to play her limp body with utmost care, kissing her soft, moist flesh, her skin, her breasts, her mouth.

         She was utterly limp with fulfilment, her eyes closed.

          “Still alive I hope?” he said, against her cheek.

          Her eyes fluttered open. His face was above hers, flushed across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, his lips wet, his eyes dark with smug triumph.

         “Our company approaches,” he said, interrupting her languid daze. “Your utterly sumptuous body has only succeeded in inflaming me further, Miss Bennet. We will rise, and part ways, for now. Soon, however, at my discretion and on my terms –complete and total surrender –I will have my way with you, and I will pleasure you beyond your wildest expectations and past the limits of your control. This was just a taste of what is on offer, only the beginning of the ecstatic heights I might entice you to climb, if you will be so bold as to accept my offer, and make me the happiest of men. Believe me when I say I possess the skill and endowments to deliver upon what I have professed.”

          “Of that I have no doubt,” she breathed.

         He helped her to her feet, ensuring she was steady enough to stand; she was relieved to find that she was. He settled her skirts, and brushed the grass from her clothing. Then he refastened her buttons, rubbing his knuckles against her nipples as he did so.

         “For all your virtue and propriety, Miss Bennet,” said he, his eyes glinting, “you are somewhat less restrained than you at first appear.”

          “Likewise, Mr. Darcy.”

          He smiled in that predatory way he had about him. Their gazes held in a hot, connective moment, a blush staining her cheeks.

         He then asked her to walk into the house --but she declared herself not tired, and they stood together on the lawn. She did not trust herself to go to the house with him, well aware that the enticements that excursion would introduce might be too tempting to resist. At such a time, much might have been said, and silence was very tense, and awkward. She wanted to talk, but there seemed an embargo on every subject. At last she recollected that she had been travelling, and they talked of Matlock and Dove Dale with great perseverance. Yet time and her aunt, although now in sight, moved slowly --and her patience and her ideas were nearly worn out before the tête-à-tête was over. On Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s coming up, they were all pressed to go into the house and take some refreshment; but this was declined, and they parted on each side with the utmost politeness. Mr. Darcy handed the ladies into the carriage, and when it drove off, Elizabeth saw him walking slowly towards the house.

         The observations of her uncle and aunt now began; and each of them pronounced him to be infinitely superior to any thing they had expected.

          “He is perfectly well behaved, polite, and unassuming,” said her uncle.      

          “There is something a little stately in him to be sure,” replied her aunt, “but it is confined to his air, and is not unbecoming. I can now say with the housekeeper, that though some people may call him proud, I have seen nothing of it.”

          “I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to us. It was more than civil; it was really attentive; and there was no necessity for such attention. His acquaintance with Elizabeth was very trifling.”

         “To be sure, Lizzy,” said her aunt, “he is not so handsome as Wickham; or rather he has not Wickham’s countenance, for his features are perfectly good. He is certainly brawny-looking beneath his refined clothing. But how came you to tell us that he was so disagreeable?”

         Elizabeth excused herself as well as she could; said that she had liked him better when they met in Kent than before, and that she had never seen him so pleasant as this morning.

          “But perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his civilities,” replied her uncle. “Your great men often are; and therefore I shall not take him at his word about fishing, as he might change his mind another day, and warn me off his grounds.”

          Elizabeth felt that they had entirely mistaken his character, but said nothing.         “From what we have seen of him,” continued Mrs. Gardiner, “I really should not have thought that he could have behaved in so cruel a way by any body, as he has done by poor Wickham. He has not an ill-natured look. On the contrary, there is something pleasing about his mouth when he speaks. I dare say he has fine, full, well-shaped lips. There is something about them that inclines one to think wicked thoughts. And there is something of dignity in his countenance, that would not give one an unfavourable idea of his heart. But to be sure, the good lady who showed us the house did give him a most flaming character! I could hardly help laughing aloud sometimes. But he is a liberal master, I suppose, and that in the eye of a servant comprehends every virtue.”

          Elizabeth here felt herself called on to say something in vindication of his behaviour to Wickham. And therefore gave them to understand, in as guarded a manner as she could, that by what she had heard from his relations in Kent, his actions were capable of a very different construction. That his character was by no means so faulty, nor Wickham’s so amiable, as they had been considered in Hertfordshire. In confirmation of this, she related the particulars of all the pecuniary transactions in which they had been connected, without actually naming her authority, but stating it to be such as might be relied on.

          Mrs. Gardiner was surprised and concerned; but as they were now approaching the scene of her former pleasures, every idea gave way to the charm of recollection. She was too much engaged in pointing out to her husband all the interesting spots in its environs to think of any thing else. Fatigued as she had been by the morning’s walk, they had no sooner dined than she set off again in quest of her former acquaintance. And the evening was spent in the satisfactions of an intercourse renewed after many years discontinuance.

         The occurrences of the day were too full of interest to leave Elizabeth much attention for any of these new friends. She could do nothing but think, and think with wonder, of Mr. Darcy’s civility, of his talent, of his wishing her to be acquainted with his sister. Of the lingering effects of her very first –mind-blowing –orgasm, and above all, after the overwhelmingly pleasurable events of the afternoon, of his promise to torture her, spank her and drive her beyond the limits of pleasure with his enormous rock-hard mantool.


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

Elizabethhad settled it that Mr. Darcy would bring his sister to visit her the very day after her reaching Pemberley. And was consequently resolved not to be out of sight of the inn the whole morning. But her conclusion was false. For on the very morning after their own arrival at Lambton, these visitors came. They had been walking about the place with some of their new friends, and were just returned to the inn to dress themselves for dining with the same family. When the sounds of a carriage drew them to a window, and they saw a gentleman and lady in a curricle, driving up the street.

         Elizabeth, immediately recognizing the livery, guessed what it meant, and imparted no small degree of surprise to her relations by acquainting them with the honour which she expected. Her uncle and aunt were all I amazement; and the embarrassment of her manner as she spoke of the circumstance itself. And of many the circumstance of the preceding day, opened to them a new idea on the business. Nothing had ever suggested it before, but they now felt that there was no other way of accounting for such attentions from such a quarter than by supposing a partiality for their niece. While these newly born notions were passing in their heads, the perturbation of Elizabeth’s feelings was every moment increasing. Considering the blossoming possibilities and fiery assertions of her past encounters with Mr. Darcy, she was quite amazed at her own discomposure. But amongst other causes of disquiet, she dreaded lest the partiality of the brother should have said too much in her favour. More than commonly anxious to please, she naturally suspected that every power of pleasing would fail her, at least those that involved remaining clothed.

         She retreated from the window, fearful of being seen. And as she walked up and down the room, endeavoring to compose herself, saw such looks of enquiring surprise in her uncle and aunt as made every thing worse.

         Miss Darcy and her brother appeared, and this formidable introduction took place. With astonishment did Elizabeth see that her new acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as herself, and not nearly as snooty as she might have supposed. Since her being as Lambton, she had heard that Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud; but the observation of a very few minutes convinced her that she was only exceedingly shy. She found it difficult to obtain even a word from her beyond a monosyllable.

         Miss Darcy was tall, and more on a larger scale than Elizabeth, and though little more than sixteen, her figure was generously formed in all the right places, and her appearance womanly and graceful. She was less handsome than her brother, but there was sense and good humour in her face, and her manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle. Elizabeth, who had expected to find in her as acute and unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, was much relieved by discerning such different feelings.

         They had not been long together before Darcy told her that Bingley was also coming to wait on her. She had barely time to express her satisfaction, and prepare for such a visitor, when Bingley’s quick step was heard on the stairs, and in a moment he entered the room. All Elizabeth’s anger against him had been long done away; but, had she still felt any, it could hardly have stood its ground against the unaffected cordiality with which he expressed himself on seeing her again. He enquired in a friendly, though general way, after her family, and looked and spoke with the same good-humoured ease that he had ever done.

         To Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner he was scarcely a less interesting personage than to herself. They had long wished to see him. The whole party before them, indeed, excited a lively attention. The suspicions which had just arisen, of Mr. Darcy and their niece, directed their observation towards each with an earnest, though guarded, enquiry. They soon drew from those enquiries the full conviction that one of them at least knew what it was to love. Of the lady’s sensations they remained a little in doubt; but that the gentleman was overflowing with admiration was evident enough by the pocket rocket that only seemed to burgeon further with each passing moment.

          Elizabeth, on her side, had much to do. She wanted to ascertain the feelings of each of her visitors, she wanted to compose her own, and to make herself agreeable to all. And in the latter object, where she feared most to fail, she was surest of success, for those to whom she endeavored to give pleasure were prepossessed in her favour. Bingley was ready, Georgiana was eager, and Darcy determined to be pleased.

         In seeing Bingley, her thoughts naturally flew to her sister; and oh! How ardently did she long to know whether any of his were directed in a like manner. Sometimes she could fancy that he talked less than on former occasions, and once or twice pleased herself with the notion that as he looked at her, he was trying to trace a resemblance. But though this might be imaginary, she could not be deceived as to his behaviour to Miss Darcy, who had been set up as a rival of Jane. No look appeared on either side that spoke particular regard. Nothing occurred between them that could justify the hopes of his sister. They did not touch each other, in any way attempt to make a move upon the other, nor did they even seem to take much notice of the other at all.

         On this point she was soon satisfied; and two or three little circumstances occurred ere they parted which, in her anxious interpretation. Denoted a recollection of Jane not untinctured by tenderness, and a wish of saying more that might lead to the mention of her, had he dared. He observed to her, at a moment when the others were talking together, and in a tone which had something of real regret, that it “was a very long time since he had had the pleasure of seeing her –” and, before she could reply, he added, “It is above eight months. We have not met since the 26th of November, when we were all laying together at Netherfield.”

          Elizabeth was pleased to find his memory so exact; and he afterwards took occasion to ask her, when unattended to by any of the rest, whether all her sisters were at Longbourn. There was not much in the question, nor in the preceding remark, but there was a look and manner which gave them meaning.

         It was not often that she could turn her eyes on Mr. Darcy himself; but, whenever she did catch a glimpse, she saw an expression of general complaisance. And in one unguarded moment, of dark, primal anticipation, and in all that he said she heard an accent so far removed from hauteur or disdain of his companions. As convinced her that the improvement of manners which she had yesterday witnessed, however temporary its existence might prove, had at least outlived one day. When she saw him thus seeking the acquaintance and courting the good opinion of people, with whom any intercourse a few months ago would have been a disgrace. When she saw him thus civil, not only to herself, but to the very relations whom he had openly disdained, and recollected their last lively scene in Hunsford Parsonage. The difference, the change was so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could hardly restrain her astonishment from being visible.

         Never, even in the company of his dear friends at Netherfield, or his dignified relations at Rosings, had she seen him so desirous to please. So free from self-consequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no importance could result from the success of his endeavour. And when even the acquaintance of those to whom his attentions were addressed would draw down the ridicule and censure of the ladies both of Netherfield and Rosings.

         Their visitors staid with them above half an hour, and when they arose to depart, Mr. Darcy called on his sister to join him in expressing their wish of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Bennet to dinner at Pemberley before they left the country. Miss Darcy, though with a diffidence which marked her little in the habit of giving invitations, readily obeyed. Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece, desirous of knowing how she, whom the invitation most concerned, felt disposed as to its acceptance. But Elizabeth had turned away her head, biting her lip to tame herself of the riotous tumult of her need for their darkhorse host. Which only compounded itself the more time she spent in his presence. In the observance of his musculature and the obvious prowess that practically radiated from his big, tense, tight-sprung body. Presuming, however, that this studied avoidance spoke rather a momentary embarrassment, than any dislike of the proposal. And seeing in her husband, who was fond of society, a perfect willingness to accept it, she ventured to engage for her attendance, and the day after the next was fixed on.

         Bingley expressed great pleasure in the certainty of seeing Elizabeth again, having still a great deal to say to her, and many enquiries to make after all their Hertfordshire friends. Elizabeth, construing all this into a wish of fucking her sister, was pleased. On this account, as well as some others, found herself, when their visitors left them, capable of considering the last half hour with some satisfaction, though while it was passing the enjoyment of it had been little. Eager to be alone, and fearful of enquiries or hints from her uncle and aunt, she staid with them only long enough to hear their favourable opinion of Bingley, and then hurried away to dress.

         But she had no reason to fear Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s curiosity; it was not their wish to force her communication. It was evident that she was much better acquainted with Mr. Darcy than they had before any idea of. It was evident that he was very much in love with her, and of his lust there could be no doubt. Mrs. Gardiner found some fascination in watching which the man’s unquestionably-impressive erection stir and expand every time he glanced in Elizabeth’s direction. Mrs. Gardiner gained the distinct impression that if their company were to vacate the room, the pair would be upon each other like hungry wolves before the door might even be closed. They saw much to interest, but nothing to justify enquiry.

          Of Mr. Darcy it was now a matter of anxiety to think well; and, as far as their acquaintance reached, there was no fault to find. They could not be untouched by his politeness, and, had they drawn his character from their own feelings and his servant’s report. Without any reference to any other account, the circle in Hertfordshire to which he was known would not have recognised it for Mr. Darcy. Extreme desire had clearly done wonders for his amiability. There was now an interest, however, in believing the housekeeper; and they soon became sensible that the authority of a servant who had known him since he was four years old.  Whose own manners indicated respectability, was not to be hastily rejected. Neither had any thing occurred in the intelligence of their Lambton friends that could materially lessen its weight. They had nothing to accuse him of but pride; pride he probably had, and if not, it would certainly be imputed by the inhabitants of a small market-town where the family did not visit. It was acknowledged, however, that he was a liberal man, and did much good among the poor.

         With respect to Wickham, the travelers soon found that he was not held there in much estimation. For though the chief of his concerns with the son of his patron were imperfectly understood. It was yet a well known fact that on his quitting Derbyshire he had left many debts behind him, which Mr. Darcy afterwards discharged.

         As for Elizabeth, her thoughts were at Pemberley this evening more than the last. The evening, though as it passed it seemed long, was not long enough to determine her feelings towards one in that mansion. She lay awake two whole hours endeavoring to make them out, touching herself tenderly as she considered her turbulent emotions. She certainly did not hate him. No; hatred had vanished long ago, and she had almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling a dislike against him that could be so called. The respect created by the conviction of his valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had for some time ceased to be repugnant to her feelings. It was now heightened into somewhat of a friendlier nature by the testimony so highly in his favour, and bringing forward his disposition in so amiable a light, which yesterday had produced. But above all, above respect and esteem, there was a motive within her of good will which could not be overlooked. It was gratitude. --Gratitude, not merely for having once loved her, but for loving her still well enough to forgive all the petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, and all the unjust accusations accompanying her rejection.

         He who, she had been persuaded, would avoid her as his greatest enemy, seemed, on this accidental meeting, most eager to preserve the acquaintance. Without any indelicate display of regard, or any peculiarity of manner, where their two selves only were concerned, was soliciting the good opinion of her friends, and bent on making her known to his sister. Such a change in a man of so much pride excited not only astonishment but gratitude --for to love, ardent love, it must be attributed. As such, its impression on her was of a sort to be encouraged, as by no means unpleasing, though it could not be exactly defined. She respected, she esteemed, she was grateful to him. She felt a real interest in his welfare; and she only wanted to know how far she wished that welfare to depend upon herself. How far it would be for the happiness of both that she should employ the power, which her fancy told her she still possessed, of bringing on the renewal of his addresses.  

         She could also acknowledge that his forceful, carnal declarations to bang her senseless lingered in her mind. Her curiosity and the near-constant self-lubrication of her most intimate areas combined to consume her in a lulling, anticipatory haze. She very nearly succeeded in coaxing some high-end pleasure with her own fingers at the very thought of his brutish masculinity so carefully tamed beneath the thin veneer of cultured discipline. But, alas, the skittery, sumptuous release remained just out of reach.

          It had been settled in the evening, between the aunt and niece, that such a striking civility as Miss Darcy’s, in coming to them on the very day of her arrival at Pemberley ought to be imitated. Though it could not be equaled, by some exertion of politeness on their side; and, consequently, that it would be highly expedient to wait on her at Pemberley the following morning. They were, therefore, to go. Elizabeth was pleased, though, when she asked herself the reason, she had very little to say in reply. Except to admit to herself that she was most enamored of the thought of laying her eyes on his wide-shouldered, swarthy frame. His full lips that promised unspeakable unrestrained intimacies, his unyielding solidity. Mr. Gardiner left them soon after breakfast. The fishing scheme had been renewed the day before, and a positive engagement made of his meeting some of the gentlemen at Pemberley by noon.


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

         Convinced as Elizabeth now was that Miss Bingley’s dislike of her had originated in jealousy. She could not help feeling how very unwelcome her appearance at Pemberley must be to her, and was curious to know with how much civility on that lady’s side the acquaintance would now be renewed.

          On reaching the house, they were shown through the hall into a most impressively equipped discipline room that would rival or even surpass the many similar rooms at Rosings, whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for summer. Elizabeth was reminded of Mr. Darcy’s family’s penchant for domination, and the thought, which had always before as presented by the members of his leather-clad extended family seemed judiciously unappealing. Now sparked the natural inquisitiveness of her character; she surveyed the whips and chains and wondered at his technique, his thoroughness.

         Where would he begin? With which weapon would he introduce his ruthless, delicious assault? Its windows, opening to the ground, admitted a most refreshing view of the high woody hills behind the house, and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts which were scattered over the intermediate lawn. The room had been incongruously laid with a genteel invitation for tea, amid the gentle glint of the metallic wrist cuffs and the musky scent of sunwarmed leather.

          In this room they were received by Miss Darcy, who was sitting there with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and the lady with whom she lived in London. Georgiana’s reception of them was very civil; but attended with all that embarrassment which, though proceeding from shyness and the fear of doing wrong. Would easily give to those who felt themselves inferior the belief of her being proud and reserved. Mrs. Gardiner and her niece, however, did her justice, and pitied her. Elizabeth knew only too well about the dusky, backdoor advances of Mr. Wickham, and thoughtfully pondered upon whether he had executed a similarly problematic approach in his seduction of Georgiana before he had been ordered away by Mr. Darcy.

          By Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, they were noticed only by a bitchy little curtsey; and on their being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must always be, succeeded for a few moments. It was first broken by Mrs. Annesley, a genteel, agreeable looking woman, whose endeavour to introduce some kind of discourse proved her to be more truly well bred than either of the others. Between her and Mrs. Gardiner, with occasional help from Elizabeth, the conversation was carried on. Miss Darcy looked as if she wished for courage enough to join in it; and sometimes did venture a short sentence, when there was least danger of its being heard.

         Elizabeth soon saw that she was herself closely watched by Miss Bingley, and that she could not speak a word, especially to Miss Darcy, without calling her attention. This observation would not have prevented her from trying to talk to the latter, had they not been seated at an inconvenient distance; but she was not sorry to be spared the necessity of saying much. Her own thoughts were employing her. She eyed some of the more unconventional tools of torture which adorned the walls in artful display. She expected every moment that some of the gentlemen would enter the room. She wished, she feared, that the master of the house might be amongst them; and whether she wished or feared it most, she could scarcely determine. Somewhat abruptly and with that thought in mind, she excused herself from the tea table. Offering only the excuse that she would take to the fresh air for a moment, and return to the gathering shortly. Although an unexpected pardon, Miss Bingley made no retort, only eyeing her curiously. Georgina smiled and engaged Miss Annesley in a question pertaining to the light meal they would soon partake.

          Making her way down a wide hallway, at first with every intention of finding a door and a tall tree to shade her, she hoped for a light breeze to cool the unknowable heat that had come to possess her body. The light flush of her skin and the gentle throb between her legs which she may attempt to ignore or refuse. But surged nonetheless, infusing her with a distressing ardour. On her way she spied another internal door, only slightly ajar; it appearing to lead into a darkened room. The curtains had been drawn almost entirely, allowing only a sliver of daylight to enter the enclosed space. With a curiosity that was her nature, Elizabeth peeked into the empty den, spying the glint of metal. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she could discern the shape of a four poster bed and a most interesting large, wooden x-shaped structure adorned. As it were, with four strategically placed leather cuffs affixed with metal clasps. Drawn to the unusual contraption, Elizabeth entered the room, running her fingers over the smooth surface of the hard wood.She was immensely startled when the door closed behind her and a hulking shape appeared before her. It took her only seconds to identify the wide-shouldered physique, the windswept hair, the hands that rested already at her hips. He stood at least a head taller, his dark eyes fathomless and dire. His hands gripped her, and the gentle force of his fingers only succeeded in stoking the surge of warm feeling that ignited her pulsing core.

         “Mr. Darcy,” she whispered.

         “Miss Bennet,” he countered, with utmost civility. “When I saw you creeping into my private den, I had a most compelling urge to follow you and to trap you within.”

          “I was just leaving.”

         “Do not leave on my account.”

          She did not reply, silently reveling in the heat of his hands as it seeped through her clothing to her skin.

          His hands pulled her against him; the solid lines of his hard body quickened her breath, causing her breasts to rise and fall against his chest. “All you need do,” he said, “is utter a single request and I will step away, walk through the door, and leave you to your own devices. Or, if you prefer, utter an altogether different request and I will kiss you, then torture you with my devices, beat you, and pleasure you until you are mindless with it.” His soft breath stirred a loose tendril of her hair. “What’s it to be, Miss Bennet?”

          Elizabeth’s firm propriety dictated she take her leave immediately, an action she fully intended to enforce. Although she was in no way ready to return to the ladies’ table, she would resume her quest to seek cooling solace under an elm tree or some such, to catch her breath and allow her body to calm. Yet her baser inclinations, which had never before gained any degree of influence. Now and with an ease that was indeed surprising to her, overthrew her noble designs entirely. She did utter a request to him, a single word: “Stay.”

         Mr. Darcy needed no further assurance. He stepped away from her, and she briefly wondered if he was refusing her in order to make her suffer, as he had once implied he might be inclined to do, or if he had not heard her soft request. Elizabeth heard the click of the lock as he fastened the door securely. He turned back to face her, his shape appearing larger and more imposing than it had even moments before. “Remove your clothing,” he said.

         The low command was thick with authority in the dark and confined enclosure; the sound of his voice and the intention behind. It caused Elizabeth’s netherregions to flare with need, lubricating her intimates instantly. Elizabeth obeyed his order, unfastening the buttons of her dress and allowing the heavy fabric to drop to the floor. She wore no undergarments; such items were considered superfluous by Mrs. Bennet. Who rarely allowed her daughters to wear what she deemed constricting, confining and unnecessary, unless they were particularly lacy and intended to be admired. Elizabeth stood before Mr. Darcy, clad only in her garters and the knee-high leather boots she wore. The sudden exposure to the air brought a welcome chill to her skin; her nipples tightened while her quim tingled and blossomed.

         Mr. Darcy kneeled before her, gazing up at her body with devout admiration. Saying nothing, he drew his hands up her thighs and kissed her most intimate place with his mouth, nestling into her damp heat. Elizabeth felt his tongue delve indecently, a soft, meaty touch that sent a sweet, radiant spark to her pleasure centre and found her gasping. So mired in sensation was Elizabeth that she at first did not notice he was moving her, positioning her body, easing her back against the wooden structure. Fastening first her leather-clad ankles within the metallic clasps, then rising to kiss her breasts, barely lingering to draw a nipple into his mouth, as he secured her wrists into the uppermost two clasps.

         Elizabeth was bound, unable to move. She strained uselessly against her bindings, more with a need to writhe and squirm with apprehension and anticipation than in any real attempt to escape.

         Mr. Darcy did not touch her for some moments, circling, instead, her pyre. In the half lit room, his countenance was dark and menacing, his big-framed body lithe, his eyes full of brutal promise. He was holding something in his hand, hiding it behind his back.

          His eyes were lit with amused superiority. He enjoyed the upper hand. At his subtle glee, Elizabeth became incensed. She was powerless, and bound. Her legs were spread and the cool air upon her moist and blazing intimates was almost too much to bear. It was unfair of him! Her exposed body was rising and falling in a tidal wash of reveling need, yet he gave her nothing, teasing her. Perhaps reading her desirous agitation, he said casually, “Are you ready, Miss Bennet, for me to bring you to your heights?”

         Elizabeth was in a temperament that excluded restraint. The reckless want inspired by this horrid man was becoming wildly excruciating.

         She made some attempt to keep her voice suitably steady. “Yes.”

         Mr. Darcy held up a braided leather riding crop with a small triangular end. He brushed the leather tip across her beaded nipple, circling it, slapping it lightly, once. Elizabeth flinched at the jolting sting, which funnelled hotly into the pit of her stomach, and lower.

         “With this?” he asked, his eyes alight.

         Her own eyes went wide with wonder. Of course Elizabeth had watched Madame X use several instruments very similar in appearance to the one Mr. Darcy held now, on many of her guests, and repeatedly; and her dear sister Mary had begun a small collection. Yet Elizabeth had refrained from participating in such revelries, fancying herself more traditional.

         Not waiting for her answer, Mr. Darcy moved the crop to her other breast, repeating the curt, stinging movement of the leather. Elizabeth squirmed even more fervently at the small lash’s bite and its channeling inspiration, and drew in a sharp breath; but she refused to show any signs of weakness. She would neither beg him to continue, nor beg him to stop. His black eyes caught the glimmer of a subdued ray of sunlight and she detected therein his ability to read her thoughts. He surmised her stubbornness and would take every action to break her; she resolved to never give him the satisfaction.

          Again he slapped the leather across her nipple, triggering a wicked spike of feeling Elizabeth felt acutely in her swollen, aroused flesh. It was only then, as her eyes adjusted fully to the dim lighting in the room, that his own arousal was equally severe.

          He let the tip of the riding crop graze across her breasts, and lower. Skimming her belly, he administered a series of small slaps, awakening her skin in a most splendid sparking flush. She was both afraid and relieved when he lowered the leather whip to touch between her legs, brushing it around the piqued nub of her clitoris. At the contact, Elizabeth cried out; the pleasure was instant, and irresistible. She knew what to expect of him; she knew where he was to slap his instrument next and her body was tensed with expectation. He delivered the light blow. Once, and again, and again. The tiny licks of the leather forced the pleasure from her body in a devastating culmination. Shattering through her core in a series of tight, glorious bursts so intense that she sagged and moaned and leaned against him.

         “So responsive,” he murmured, clear enjoyment in his voice; this pastime appeared his utmost entertainment, yet he held her head against his broad chest. Elizabeth was too overcome to at first to notice that Mr. Darcy had released her from her bindings and was carrying her to the expansive four-poster bed. He lay back against a mountain of plush cushions, draping her near-naked body across his much larger fully-clothed one, spreading her legs, arranging her supple body as he wished. Here, he continued his assault merely with his fingers, gently playing her sensitive, softened nub between the gathered blunt points of his fingertips; now she was the instrument and he the musician. With his right hand, he mirrored the motion around her nipples, first one, then the other. This twofold squeezing, pulling caress drew her once again into a wave of tidal bliss, so enchanting, so extreme that her hips gently gyrated to curb and manage the excesses.

          Slowly she returned to herself, still held in his encompassing embrace. The comfort derived from his warm, hard presence was confoundingly pleasant and in that moment she wished never to be removed from it.

         She remained reclined across his long form and as her sensibilities returned to her, she could not help but notice the jutting length of his arousal pressing insistently into her hip. Elizabeth considered the etiquette of such a situation; she should and would reciprocate. Mr. Darcy had coaxed not one but two stunningly powerful orgasms. She must satisfy his own need, which, judging by the size and rigidity of his lovetool, was gargantuan. The very thought of not only her climaxes but also his manhood was enough to flutter her still-rippling core, and she mused at the potency of his presence. How could it be? She had been satiated beyond belief, yet her desire for his caresses only seemed to intensify.

          Elizabeth rolled her body over his so she lay on top of him, facing him and straddling him. Mr. Darcy took this as an invitation, taking her breasts in his hands, nuzzling them, nipping and sucking lightly.

          “Before I trapped you in my private den,” he said, “I sent one of the servants to alert the ladies that my housekeeper was showing you several more portraits, which she noticed you took a keen interest in upon your last visit.” He murmured against her skin, pulling a nipple into the silky fire of his mouth. He bit her sensitive flesh and Elizabeth gasped, moving her body gently against him, riding his hips in a soft, subtle motion. “He told them you may be some time, and they should carry on with their tea during your absence.”

          “How forward thinking of you, Mr. Darcy,” said she.

          “I consider myself prepared for any eventuality.”

          “Indeed. And opportunistic.”

          “Admittedly so,” he said, lapping at the underside of her reddened nipple. “I do not consider it a weakness.”

          “I suppose it is only good manners to return your favour,” she said. “It is entirely up to you what favours, if any, you would like to bestow. I dare say your lithe, writhing little body is already soon to grant me the utmost favour, if you continue to gyrate against me in this way.”

          “In this way?” she said coyly, continuing her movement somewhat less reservedly.

         Mr. Darcy groaned softly. “Yes, in that way. Or any other way. I do believe I have gone too long without. I have been spoiled for any other since that very first occasion when I feasted my eyes upon your naked body. Do you remember how you teased me? You paraded your figure before of me, exposing yourself just enough to alight me with desire. I have not yet recovered and I have every reason to believe I might never recover. To watch you now, to feel you now, ah, it is enough to drive me past the limits of my control, Miss Bennet.”

          Elizabeth found she enjoyed this feeling of feminine power. In this moment, she was not only enticing him she was controlling him; this unequalled, egotistical, talented master was entirely at her mercy.

         “Perhaps I can do a little more to undermine your control, Mr. Darcy.” She carefully unfastened his trousers, releasing his straining mammoth arousal. Now that she had experienced bliss under his mouth, his hands and his whip, she felt somewhat less daunted by the thought of his possession. Still, beholding glory of this magnitude was one thing, receiving it quite another. But today was not the day for ownership, and even if she had been viewing roomfuls of portraiture, she was aware that her absence from the ladies’ table was becoming inappropriately long in duration.

          Mr. Darcy’s eyes were smoldering and heavy-lidded as he watched her take him in her small, cool hands. Gently, she began to stroke his shaft, slowly at first, increasing the momentum, squeezing lightly as she worked him. He cursed and groaned loudly. Emboldened by his obvious pleasure, she leaned to take the head of his shaft between her lips, sucking strongly. He even tasted wealthy, she reflected: salty and divine, as though his flavor was comprised of only the best, most expensive ingredients. Using her hands and her mouth, she purposely charmed the teasing, pressurized pleasure from his body. Mr. Darcy’s manhood erupted, twitching spasmodically and spilling hot bursts of his seed into her open mouth. Elizabeth was so startled by the power of it and the jetting volume of his offering, she could not swallow even half. Much of it dripped down her chin and over her hands, and she used the silky liquid to extend his pleasure, to work every last ounce of it from his body.

          Mr. Darcy lay still for several minutes, his eyes drowsed. Elizabeth used his handkerchief to wipe his seed from her lips and her hands, and she gently cleaned him, admiring the lines of his body. His softened shaft appeared almost approachable in this state and she experienced an impassioned craving to bring it back to life. To ease him, through the encouragements of her body, to his renewed and powerful vigour. And as she smoothed the cloth along his length, she noticed that it would take little manipulation to do just that. Already, he was stirring once again. She desired nothing more than to stay with him, knowing that they both could willingly and contentedly remain in this cloistered haven for days on end. Never tiring of the bounteous gifts their own bodies were able to give to each other’s; she sensed that they had only barely begun to explore these sensuous gifts. Her world seemed larger, brimming with the prospect of learning his tastes, his preferences, his most sensitive areas; equally, she desired to give of herself to him, in every way. She knew not whether he would renew his proposal, and at that moment, she fervently wished that he would. To spend the days and nights in his company forevermore, testing the boundaries of their own desires was indeed a lofty, pleasing possibility.

         Elizabeth rose, retrieving her dress and fitting it back into place. Mr. Darcy stood, fastening his breeches. Once they were dressed, he took her in his arms and held her against his big, heated form.

          “You are the object of all my yearnings, Miss Bennet. I will not rest until I have possessed you entirely, methodically, and in every possibly way,” he said, his voice a low growl. Without pause he continued. “I will not accompany you to the others lest they suspect, but I will join you shortly. Until then, dear, sweet, lovely, feisty little Miss Bennet, I count the minutes.” Watching Elizabeth’s eyes, Mr. Darcy touched two fingers to his lips, then his heart; he exited the room through a hidden side door.

         Elizabeth took a few minutes to gather her wits and smooth her countenance, then she presently returned to the women, who looked up at her reappearance.  

        “You are fond of a good portrait, I dare say,” commented Miss Bingley. “And perhaps you have indulged in some fresh air too, Miss Bennet? It is not surprising you have such a rosy glow to your skin.”

          Elizabeth smiled politely and said nothing. Georgina contemplated her momentarily, then returned to her tea.

         After sitting in this manner a quarter of an hour without once again hearing Miss Bingley’s voice, Elizabeth was roused by receiving from her a cold enquiry after the health of her family. She answered with equal indifference and brevity, and the other said no more.

         The next variation which their visit afforded was produced by the entrance of servants with cold meat, cake, and a variety of all the finest fruits in season. But this did not take place till after many a significant look and smile from Mrs. Annesley to Miss Darcy had been given, to remind her of her post. There was now employment for the whole party; for though they could not all talk, they could all eat; and the beautiful pyramids of grapes, nectarines, and peaches soon collected them round the table.

         While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair opportunity of deciding whether she most feared or wished for the appearance of Mr. Darcy, by the feelings which prevailed on his entering the room. And then, though but a moment before she had believed her wishes to predominate, she began to regret that he came. She almost wished that she could be alone in the room to greet him, with buttons undone. But a lurch of panic accompanied the reverie, upon recollection of the sultry savagery with which he had uttered his forbidden, shadowy promises.

         He had been some time with Mr. Gardiner, who, with two or three other gentlemen from the house, was engaged by the river, and had left him only on learning that the ladies of the family intended a visit to Georgiana that morning. No sooner did he appear, then Elizabeth wisely resolved to be perfectly easy and unembarrassed. A resolution the more necessary to be made, but perhaps not the more easily kept, because she saw that the suspicions of the whole party were awakened against them. And that there was scarcely an eye which did not watch his behaviour nor his groin when he first came into the room. In no countenance was attentive curiosity so strongly marked as in Miss Bingley’s, in spite of the smiles which overspread her pinched face whenever she spoke to one of its objects. For jealousy had not yet made her desperate –though Elizabeth conjectured that Miss Bingley would stop at nothing to ensnare him, and wondered how far the woman had henceforth gone to entice him. Her attentions to Mr. Darcy were by no means over. Miss Darcy, on her brother’s entrance, exerted herself much more to talk. Elizabeth saw that he was anxious for his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded, as much as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side. Miss Bingley saw all this likewise; and, in the imprudence of anger, took the first opportunity of saying, with sneering civility.

          “Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the ----shire militia removed from Meryton? They must be a great loss to your family.”

         In Darcy’s presence she dared not mention Wickham’s name; but Elizabeth instantly comprehended that he was uppermost in her thoughts. The various recollections connected with him gave her a moment’s distress. But, exerting herself vigorously to repel the ill-natured attack, she presently answered the question in a tolerably disengaged tone. While she spoke, an involuntary glance shewed her Darcy with an heightened complexion, earnestly looking at her, and his sister overcome with confusion and unable to lift up her eyes. Had Miss Bingley known what pain she was then giving her beloved friend, she undoubtedly would have refrained from the hint. But she had merely intended to discompose Elizabeth, by bringing forward the idea of a man to whom she believed her partial. To make her betray a sensibility which might injure her in Darcy’s opinion, and perhaps to remind the latter of all the follies and absurdities by which some part of her family were connected with that corps. Not a syllable had ever reached her of Miss Darcy’s meditated elopement. To no creature had it been revealed, where secrecy was possible, except to Elizabeth. From all Bingley’s connections her brother was particularly anxious to conceal it, from that very wish which Elizabeth had long ago attributed to him, of their becoming hereafter her own. He had certainly formed such a plan, and without meaning that it should affect his endeavour to separate him from Miss Bennet. It is probable that it might add something to his lively concern for the welfare of his friend.

         Elizabeth’s collected behaviour, however, soon quieted his emotion; and as Miss Bingley, vexed and disappointed, dared not approach nearer to Wickham, Georgiana also recovered in time, though not enough to be able to speak any more. Her brother, whose eye she feared to meet, scarcely recollected her interest in the affair, and the very circumstance which had been designed to turn his thoughts from Elizabeth, seemed to have fixed them on her more, and more cheerfully.      

       Their visit did not continue long after the question and answer above-mentioned. And while Mr. Darcy was attending them to their carriage, Miss Bingley was venting her feelings in criticisms on Elizabeth’s person, behaviour, and dress. But Georgiana would not join her. Her brother’s recommendation was enough to ensure her favour. His judgment could not err, and he had spoken in such terms of Elizabeth as to leave Georgiana without the power of finding her otherwise than lovely and amiable. When Darcy returned to the saloon, Miss Bingley could not help repeating to him some part of what she had been saying to his sister.

          “How very ill Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy,” she cried; “I never in my life saw any one so much altered as she is since the winter. She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again.”

          However little Mr. Darcy might have liked such an address, he contented himself with coolly replying that he perceived no other alteration than her being rather golden and tanned --no miraculous consequence of travelling in the summer.     

        “For my own part,” she rejoined, “I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her. Her complexion has no brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character; it is too petite, and with a light sprinkling of freckles. Her teeth are white and tolerably neat, but not out of the common way; as for her bright emerald green eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I never could perceive any thing extraordinary in them. They have a restless, provocative look, which I do not like at all; and in her air altogether, there is a self-sufficiency without fashion which is intolerable. And as for her body, her breasts are too showy and almost unnaturally pert; her curves border on the scandalous, and she gives off an aura of wonton disregard.”

          Persuaded as Miss Bingley was that Darcy admired Elizabeth, this was not the best method of recommending herself; but angry people are not always wise. In seeing him at last look somewhat nettled, she had all the success she expected. He was resolutely silent however; and, from a determination of making him speak she continued,

         “I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, ‘She a beauty! --I should as soon call her mother a wit.’ But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time.”

          “Yes,” replied Darcy, who could contain himself no longer, “but that was only when I first knew her, for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.”

          He then went away, and Miss Bingley was left to all the satisfaction of having forced him to say what gave no one any pain but herself.

         Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth talked of all that had occurred during their visit, as they returned, except what had particularly interested them both. The looks and behaviour of every body they had seen were discussed, except of the person who had mostly engaged their attention. They talked of his sister, his friends, his house, his fruit, of every thing but himself. Yet Elizabeth was longing to know what Mrs. Gardiner thought of him, and Mrs. Gardiner would have been highly gratified by her niece’s beginning the subject.


End file.
